Knife in the Dark
by Astridhe
Summary: Sequel to "Shot in the Heart". Khaless has found herself embroiled in the plots of nobles and saddled with a precious charge to protect, aided by a staunch friend and dangerous allies. Meanwhile, Thalion Vanafidon, with his companions, is on her trail and he intends to chase her to the ends of the earth if need be. M/F
1. The Dark Gem

The silence was deafening. It crept into the room like a thief in the night and blanketed the world in an unnerving quiet. Alaunirra Aleval clutched her symbol of Lloth a little more tightly, the ebony skin over her knuckles lightening as her hold became a crushing death grip. She knew that she wasn't alone here. Noble daughter of the city's second house, she was nevertheless a hunted creature, a frightened sort of prey. She was certain something had been stalking her for weeks. She had never actually laid eyes on whatever it was. There was only a suggestion, a flicker of movement in the corner of her eye that was never there when she turned her head. Through her network of spies, she had learned of a male drow making inquiries about her. Her schedule, her habits, her personality...but he was a street tough, a mercenary. Granted, an elusive one. Her effort to capture him had failed utterly. It was as if he had asked his questions—successfully, as she had learned to her horror—and then vanished without a trace.

Now here she was, alone in one of the smaller chapels of Lloth that did not belong to her family, standing beneath the cruel and cold eyes of the Spider Queen's carven face. The statue dominated the room, the spider body and legs of the Demon Queen of Spiders forming the supporting base of a torso and head so perfectly formed that they almost seemed alive. It was all polished black marble with so few white veins that it almost looked like obsidian. Alaunirra found herself backing into the statue and its cold comfort of an embrace. Anything to keep someone from coming up behind her.

She heard a sound off to the left from the shadows cast by flickering, low braziers that wreathed the room in faint, incense-laden smoke. Even as she turned her head, a figure detached from the shadows. The dark-dyed leather armor reinforced at the joints with fine chain made not even a whisper of the sound as the assassin advanced. There was no gleam of a blade to alert Alaunirra, as the dagger had been darkened by fire. The priestess still stared into the darkness, her panicked eyes trying to place the sound she had heard. It made it easy for the specter of shadows to simply step up behind her and make a sudden move. Alaunirra's scream was stifled by a hand tightly holding her jaw shut and the dagger drawn across her throat, creating a yawning smile beneath her chin. The staining wash of blood spilled down her crimson robes. "Hush," the assassin just whispered as Alaunirra tried to struggle. The priestess swiftly grew weaker and weaker before falling still, her eyes glassy. Not a drop of blood had spilled onto her killer.

The assassin lowered the limp body to the ground and folded the late Alaunirra's arms over her bloody chest. Then the hooded female wiped off the blade and slid it back into a sheath along the outside of her thigh before stalking out through a side corridor. Two guards were slumped against the wall near the door, sleeping so deeply that she could have kicked them and they wouldn't have woken. Sleep poison was a marvelous thing. She had pulled the tiny darts out of their necks so the only evidence would be a needle-like prick and an ache. Her partner had arranged their incapacitation.

She could have killed them, but they were inconveniences alone. They were merely obstacles to the prize. Perhaps it would have been easier to murder them, but that posed a danger. What if they'd fought back? Certainly, she and her accomplice had the benefit of surprise, but that only went so far. It was her insistence that this be performed as neatly as possible. Her partner had advocated for death in case the guards might see something. But what was there really to see?

The assassin let herself out of a side exit and scaled the building with an almost supernatural ease. People so rarely looked up. She maneuvered herself to where the outer wall was the closest, then drank a small potion that she'd been carrying in a belt pouch. She felt the magic as a warmth that coursed down into her legs. She took a running start and launched herself from the parapet, her leap given incredible power by the potion. She tumbled across the outer wall and then plunged to the ground and into a decorative pond, a less than graceful landing. Fortunately, no one was immediately nearby to see. Sopping wet, she swam to the edge and silently thanked her partner for subtly checking how deep the water was before their escapade began.

She climbed out of the water and shook off before taking off through the streets. Her dark equipment barely showed the moisture, though she would need to oil her armor again carefully at some later point.

Her partner was several streets away, a grizzled veteran and male drow warrior with relatively recent scars from something's claws across one cheek. One of his dark eyes had a permanent droop to his eyelid after a warhammer blow to the side of his head that magic had otherwise healed. "How'd it go?"

"Better than we had any right to expect," she said calmly, pulling her hood down. It revealed a face lovely in the sharp, cruel way of the drow. Her lips were currently pursed into a thin, evaluating line above a stubborn chin and her ruby eyes were thoughtful. Her white hair hung long around her face now that she was free of the hood. She was nothing special, no beauty set apart from any other commoner. As far as her partner was concerned, the beauty came in the soundless way she moved—like an expert dancer, or a poem in motion.

"Nice job," he said with a grin, handing over a cherry-wood bow and a quiver packed with grey-fletched arrows that were too distinctive for this job. The weapon was not polished at all, though the wood had been lovingly tended to.

"It was a team effort," she said dryly. "Let's get out of here, Ghaundar."

"Time for a drink?" the male drow suggested hopefully even as they started down one of Erelhei-Cinlu's crooked side streets. "After we report in, of course."

Standing like a priceless, polished gem at the heart of the realms of the drow, Erelhei-Cinlu was a city of contradiction, at once beloved and hated. The center of elaborate traditions and unfathomably complicated webs of shifting alliances and rivalries, it was a darkly enchanted capital from which the Spider Queen's faithful could exert their powerful influence. It embodied everything that was meant when the word 'drow' was whispered in fearful or admiring, but always hushed, tones. However, it was also one of the few cities that was cosmopolitan in a true sense. Outlanders, other races, were permitted within its massive and ancient walls...so long as they abided by the customs of their hosts and obeyed tradition. Obedience meant survival, at least for a while, while disobedience meant ruthless extermination.

Ringed by an immense, polished, black basalt wall that seemed seamless—as if it were carved from one stone—and was studded by guard-towers, Erelhei-Cinlu was both beautiful in its sweeping towers and arches, and chaotic in its construction that ranged in style from the extraordinary buildings in the Ghetto of Scholars to the ramshackle tenements of artisans. Divided into eight districts, also called the ghettos, the city was teeming with life. Across the river and the Flying Bridge stood the palatial estates of the nobles, heavily guarded and removed from the noise and chaos of the city itself.

For Khaless D'veldrin—though once she had claimed a true family and a House—the name Erelhei-Cinlu meant one thing despite her lack of status: home. This place, this city, so far from where she had first drawn breath, was the closest she had ever come to a feeling of true belonging. It demanded so much from her, including such ruthless violence as that which she had just engaged in, but that was a small price to pay for security. Not safety, as nowhere in the drow world was truly safe with secrets like her own, but certain guarantees made by powerful people that she would be immune to certain aspects of drow life. She was not a slave, but she was not a free creature either. She had allowed a noble to sink claws into her willingly for the sake of power, and while that had its rewards, it also came with strings.

Their destination was the Ghetto of Outcasts, the final destination for drow undesirables: members of fallen houses, half-breeds, beggars, and criminals. House Xaniqos controlled it and had already begun to change it, using the nightmarish power structure of brutal gangs and thuggish criminals to their own advantage. It was also a place of security for Khaless and Ghaundar to operate out of, as the residents were too far gone to care about anything and the rest of the city left it well alone.

Low red lights burned in the torch-holders outside the Lady's without need of any wood or actual fuel. The bordello was a surprisingly nice establishment, run by a succubus with a polite arrangement with House Xaniqos that allowed her to live in the area provided she didn't feed on everyone who walked through the doors. The average street tough or embittered local were fair game. It was those who served the drow house who were expected to be left alone. The demon, Caizel, had no problems with those terms as far as the rogue knew and even went so far as to report to Matron Mother Thandysha herself. It was not exactly safe for Khaless and Ghaundar, as it wasn't Thandysha they served, but it was a private place where they could do business with their own mistress.

Khaless lead the way to the back, ignoring the succubus who lived openly in her demonic form for much of the time. Caizel was draped off a male half-drow, whispering soft things in his ear as her fingers trailed across his chest suggestively. It wouldn't be long until he was willingly alone with her and then no one could vouch for his safety. She tended not to kill her lovers, but that was no guarantee. She and Ghaundar found the private room they were looking for. It was the male drow who opened the door and held it for Khaless. "After you," he said with a little grin.

The woman waiting for them was dressed in the plain robes of a lower priestess, but her bearing spoke of much higher things. Cosmetics had been used to give her soft features a sharper look, more in line with the malnourished average of this part of the city. She was also noticeably pregnant at the moment, something that had changed since last they'd spoken. For the most part, their employer preferred to work through agents and dead drops. It was only for truly important things that she met them herself. She smiled when she saw the pair. "Is it safe to assume that your presence here, calm and collected, is an indication of success?" Zesanna Xaniqos said with a faint smile quirking the corners of her mouth. Second daughter of that noble house, she had acquired her mother's ambition. However, it came with the addition of a subtlety foreign to her family. Most regarded her as simple-minded and lazy, ultimately content to feed off the power her birth position and status awarded her without chasing after more. Zesanna was the disappointment out of the female children of Thandysha, though if her mother had known more about what her second daughter spent much of her time doing, that would likely have made for a very different story.

"You would be correct," Khaless said, taking the lead. Ghaundar knew better than to speak. He was the rogue's muscle and he would have been the first to admit it. "The niggling little problem you had is taken care of. I'd call the account settled." She never spoke very directly when she was with Zesanna, wary that they might be overheard. She did not want vengeful members of House Aleval tracking her down. A commoner killing a noble was insulting. Their Matron Mother would want that commoner punished appropriately for disrupting her plans and upsetting the power structure.

"Mother should be pleased, likely pleased enough that she won't be curious as to who exactly acted with such beneficence towards Xaniqos," Zesanna said, looking immensely pleased as she leaned back in her seat. There was an almost smug smile of cat-like satisfaction playing about her lips as her eyes drifted half closed. "Ghaundar, hallway."

The male drow bowed obediently to the noble and let himself out. He would stand guard in the hall, making sure no one eavesdropped by mundane means. The area was well shielded from magical eyes and ears, at great expense to Zesanna. It had been a worthwhile investment.

Khaless raised an eyebrow ever so slightly, the only indication of skeptical anticipation she dared make. It spoke volumes to an accomplished student of drow nature like Zesanna. The rogue, normally so stone-faced, would occasionally let things show. "You expect she will not investigate?" Khaless said softly. "It might appear the work of a rival house with designs like her own."

"The Matron is a busy woman," Zesanna said in her smooth way. It was well known that Thandysha had her hands in a great number of plots and machinations, but perhaps because of the sheer volume, she had only mediocre success in them. It was not a problem that Zesanna shared. The high priestess possessed a single-mindedness that departed sharply from her family's norm. She could sit with a problem and pick at it until the whole of the thing was exposed to her, and then rearrange it to suit her purposes. Right now, Aleval's intentions to consolidate power in the city were her problem to be solved. Zesanna hardly wanted to destroy the Second House, at least at this point. She simply wanted to blind them and then let nature take its course. Alaunirra had not been a particularly subtle or threatening creature, but she had been a very persuasive recruiter with deep pockets and a lot of connections in other houses. Without her, Aleval would scrambling to catch at those loose threads. An absence of Alaunirra's protection would leave a good many spies searching desperately for a new employer. Zesanna, of course, was there to fill that sudden void.

Khaless wasn't precisely certain that this was Zesanna's plan or what the high priestess's endgame was, but that was what she had pieced together using her own sources. She made a habit of acquiring allies in both high and low places through doing people little favors here and there that they were bound to repay. Drow might have been treacherous, but they tended to honor their debts if only so that there was no dagger in the back waiting for them. "Did you have another assignment for us?"

"I will have an exceedingly important task for you within the month," Zesanna said more seriously. Khaless knew that the noble at least trusted her to a degree. The most important missions fell in the rogue's lap far more often than not. "A very dangerous mission that will take you a great deal of time, but if you perform it well, the reward will be beyond what you can imagine."

Khaless smiled faintly. "I have a very active imagination."

It earned her a full, throaty laugh from the high priestess. "I have no doubt," she said with undisguised amusement. The cleric didn't bother to shutter most of her emotions when it was just her and Khaless. Zesanna continued, "Until that day, however, I would like you to gather more information on the activities of Aleval in the Ghetto of Foreigners. It is not their territory, but nevertheless they are beginning to exert their influence in subtle ways. If you can find a way to curtail it without discovery, do so. I would focus your attention on their Weapon Master if I were you. He has a weakness for sympathetic ears on pretty women."

"And I fit that criteria?" Khaless said, ignoring the little twist of discomfort in her stomach. Zesanna was right—it was an in. Not one she would particularly enjoy, but leading him on would require nothing from her that she was not willing to use to her advantage.

"You can be quite charming when the mood strikes you," Zesanna said. "But above all, avoid detection. If he cannot be safely cultivated as an asset, simply observe him. Coax things from his lover if he has one. Whatever you can do. With Alaunirra gone, they will want to capitalize on his reputation for working with foreign mercenaries and agents. If they can't have more...traditional spies, they will take the circuitous route. Remember that this is not a long term mission. That is everything I have for you."

"Thank you, Mistress," Khaless said with a bow. Zesanna was one of the few priestesses who didn't make her gag a little on that word. She hated clerics of Lloth as a rule, but that didn't mean she couldn't also respect a particularly skilled and competent one.

As she slipped out, she acknowledged to herself that she had no intention of somehow drawing the eye of the Weapon Master of House Aleval. She didn't want a lover—or, according to Ghaundar, that was merely what she told herself—and she didn't want any more attention from nobles than she already had. They were dangerous creatures and never to be trusted. She didn't particularly trust Zesanna, after all, and they were allies at this moment in time.

Her partner waited for her out in the hall, his head dipped down and his eyes closed as he hummed a particularly bawdy tune to himself. "Ghaundar," she said, letting him know she was finished. She couldn't even remember how to walk loudly enough to announce herself without ridiculously stomping her feet.

"Great. Let's go have a good time," Ghaundar said with a grin. Before she could even say a word, he was back in the main room with an eye out for his favorite prostitute, a half-human woman with dusky skin and fair hair. When Khaless joined him, he towed her over to the bar. "You need some company, Khal."

She yanked her wrist free of his hand. "I need a drink," she said snappishly. She didn't appreciate Ghaundar's efforts to find her a lover. Her heart, what tattered remnants of it that were left, belonged to a dead man. No amount of empty sex would fix or change that.

Perhaps it was the poet in her soul that refused to accept something less than love now that she had experienced its maddening, wonderful, divine reality. The pale substitute of it, so ubiquitous in the world of the drow, would never fill the void. Even though she spent so much of her time trying to avoid thinking about it, her thoughts in the quiet of her time for sleep invariably drifted towards it. She ran her fingers over drawings of his face and wished that she could turn back time. She wished that she had been the one to step in front of that fateful shot. Drow did not grieve. It was a universally accepted truth by every race, including the drow themselves. Or at least, they shed no tears. She had found her outlet in anger for a long time. It still bubbled up whenever she was reminded. How dare the world take him away? How dare her friend try to replace him? She knew it made her bitter sometimes, or worse, when she fought like a cornered demon against people who had hardly anything to deserve her ire. As if smashing a face in or driving a blade into a heart would bring him back.

Her faith was fading too. The harder she tried to cling to Eilistraee, the more the world of Lloth pulled her into the depths. The ethereal, ephemeral music of the surface was hers no longer. Even if she climbed the passages to the surface, winding so gradually and slowly upward, she knew the view of innumerable stars and an august moon would only torture her with should-have-beens and could-have-beens. Now she was stuck between worlds again, this time between the moonlight of Dark Maiden and the crushing midnight of the Demon Queen of Spiders. The lines were blurring. What did it matter if she had to kill people or betray them, as long as she preserved the few things she cared about? It was necessity. It was survival. Those were things she understood. What had compassion ever done for her? Could mercy put food on the table or secure her from the servants of Lloth? Did justice ever earn someone a position of power? Even loyalty to anything but one's own aims was a useless concept devised by other races in an effort to protect themselves from the harsh, unpleasant reality that trust was a fool's gamble on the absent goodwill of another self-centered bastard.

Apparently today was a bitter day, she acknowledged privately as she paid for her drink. The downturn in her mood likely had to do with Alaunirra's murder. She had never considered herself an assassin before working for Zesanna. It was an uncomfortable truth. Ghaundar seemed to sense that her mood was particularly dour despite their little victory. It always turned that way when she started to feel lonely. "If you want to just head home, I understand," he said. He knew she didn't want to talk about it. She never did, in true drow fashion.

It was the kind of comment that reminded her she did have one friend in the world. Someone who could be relied upon to be more than just an ally, someone who actively looked out for her while secure in the knowledge that she would do the same. He was the whole reason Khaless had ever taken Zesanna's offer. It meant she could protect someone she cared about. "Thanks," Khaless said. She picked up her bow and headed out, her steps winding through the dark alleys towards the small, hidden place she called home. She never feared in the darkness, knowing that she moved beyond the detection of even the most hardened of residents and even if they were to see her, they would know she was no good prey.

Her home was no hovel, but it was far from the manors of the nobility. Once it had been a small wizard's library and many of the books still remained, though some were damaged. The exterior of the building was still just this side of crumbling, but the heavy door with its reinforced lock and bar was brand new. It had been artificially aged, so as not to attract attention—the beauty of living here was that it still seemed abandoned, which left them largely undetected. The neighbors knew someone was there, but not who. Khaless unlocked it and stepped in to be greeted by the warmth of a magical fire burning in the hearth. The light its flickering golden flames cast was gentle enough that it didn't damage her darkvision. The house was comfortable enough to receive guests, but nothing special except for some of the art on the walls that had been stolen or purchased from traders who dealt with the surface. Khaless had a soft spot for paintings and tapestries that captured the essence of the woodland realms of the elves. It was nothing too dangerous, but it was a little strange. Shelves of books lined the walls, more poetry, history, and religious or planar literature than arcane tomes. The volumes that were particularly valuable had been disguised to match their fellows on the shelves.

Downstairs lay an extensive collection of different kinds of armors and weapons, Ghaundar's addition to their abode. He liked to play with his toys, experimenting with foreign weapons until he was proficient with their use and perfecting his mastery of his own weapons. The spear, the shield, the crossbow, and the longsword were his favorites without question. He didn't really see the appeal of the knife, but he was usually not fighting as close as she did, nor with the same element of surprise.

Khaless had taken the upstairs room, once the wizard's study. She had largely preserved it, though the summoning circle graven into the stone was covered by a rug and there was a bed now beneath the window that looked out onto the wondrous city that brooded in the darkness. She set her bow almost reverently down on the desk and then her quiver beside it. The drowess started unbuckling her armor and shedding her knives with it. She had more than a few hidden about her person. She wasn't certain if she wanted to pray or not. It felt almost artificial these days.

When she took off her leather breastplate, the ink drawing that she kept tucked inside her armor came tumbling out. The paper was beginning to wear out along its fold lines and would fall apart soon. It was a copy of the original from her sketchbook, capturing just as well as the original the features of a lover long ago gone. She felt an all too familiar twisting in her chest. It hurt. It always hurt. She picked up the paper anyway and unfolded it, looking down into eyes she remembered as intensely hazel even though this was only black and white.

Sometimes, Khaless envied the short lifespans of the lesser races. How blissful would it be to grow old and forget? Instead, she had centuries ahead of her—if luck favored her, anyway—and they looked grim. Was this all she could do? Serve as a tool in the ambitious plans of House Xaniqos...or at least those of its second noble daughter?

Brooding was going to accomplish her nothing and she knew it. She folded the paper again and tucked it into her armor. It always sat over her heart and it almost felt like its own kind of armor, no matter how foolish that seemed. Khaless stood up, then grabbed her bow and quiver before heading out to the range she had set up behind the tower. It was ringed by the crumbling old low wall that surrounded what were probably once slave pens holding unfortunate souls destined to become experiments. She had set up targets and invested enough money to have several animated training dummies made, activated by a command word. She actively enjoyed the challenge of multiple enemies, even when she ended up bloodied and beaten. It made her better. The longer they lived in Erelhei-Cinlu and the more they worked, the more sophisticated her training partners—of a sort—became. They were virtually soldiers of her own and had been used once or twice as guards when she didn't want to handle intruders herself.

Once they were activated, all of her own agonizing over every little thing vanished. There was only fluid movement and the pleasant warmth of practiced muscles being worked. Run, jump, roll, shoot, turn, dodge, kick, block. That was how far her world extended. Tactically, the constructs were no match for an actual mind, but they could still sneak hits in on her sometimes and that kept her moving and working.

By the time all five were disabled, she was panting and felt that wonderful burn of exercise in her muscles. She had some bruises, but nothing serious. She was still on top of her game even after the work of getting to Alaunirra. The thoughts and bitterness of earlier were gone. Instead, her mind was turning something else over. What did Zesanna mean when she said she had something important planned? That was always ominous coming from a priestess. It boded ill, whatever the case. She needed to be prepared, but first came House Aleval.

Which would be...diverting.

* * *

Alassëa squirmed under a stern, though shocked, gaze. They had made it further than any other elf she knew of, but they were fast approaching Erelhei-Cinlu, the dark capital of the drow. Thalion shrugged stone-faced as he sat next to the elven priestess of Eilistraee. Their host and ally, a half-drow mercenary named Malagos who happened not to worship Lloth, recovered quickly. He pinched the bridge of his nose between thumb and forefinger. "You will be able to pass undisguised through the streets, yes, but that does not even begin to make you safe," Malagos said. The orcish half of his heritage showed in the blockiness of his face and the slight protrusion of tusks from his lower jaw. "So long as the powers of the city are obeyed, even hated surface elves can pass through the city. But any excuse to torture and kill you, even the slightest one, will be taken. And even if they don't kill you, they will ruin you. Erelhei-Cinlu is not like other cities. It is seductive like no other city of the drow, dangerous to the heart and soul as much as the body."

"Elves are allowed?" Thalion marveled. He had lost the bronzed aspect of his skin, nearly as pale as Alassëa after countless months spent in the depths. This journey had aged him, adding worry-lines to his brow and grey to his brown hair. Alassëa remained unchanged, but perhaps that was because he had done his best to shelter his friend from the worst.

Malagos nodded. "You will be watched and left to fend wholly to yourselves amongst those who loathe you, but it is possible. The drow know that they cannot ignore the surface world anymore, though their answer is to scheme and plot in the shadows against it. Open warfare ended poorly once, in the early days of the city. They learned to be subtle and conniving. I will still caution you to turn back," he said gruffly, voice rumbling in his chest.

Alassëa and Thalion exchanged a look. "We can't turn back now," the wood elf said, sitting up a little straighter. Beside him, Alassëa shifted slightly as if uncomfortable, but she nodded.

It was a guess that had brought them here and Nek's suggestion. Rilauven and Karsoluithyl had yielded no sign of their quarry. Erelhei-Cinlu was a relatively safer place to look. They had traveled with Malagos through those cities, hiding among his mercenary band of half-breeds and other cast-offs. Most of the men made Alassëa's skin crawl when they looked at her, but she stayed close enough to Thalion and Malagos that nothing bad had ever happened. Malagos shrugged. "Then walk openly here, but do not expect me to be able to protect you. Erelhei-Cinlu follows ancient laws that are as old as the drow, unyielding and unforgiving."

"Will you still travel with us? I know your band is headed to part of the city to find work with House Despana," Alassëa said.

Malagos looked into her green eyes and sighed. The half-orc mercenary was beginning to develop a rather large soft spot for the lovely elf. He just knew he was too much of a brute to ever actually capture her attentions, in both his appearance and his manner. The idea of letting Alassëa go alone—Thalion was a protector, yes, but he had his own quest to chase—into Erelhei-Cinlu was an anathema to Malagos. "If nothing I say can dissuade you, then yes, I will accompany you. Goddess forbid Nek be your only guide." He had no love for the svirfneblin ranger. While being a mercenary himself, he had honor. He suspected that was a trait which Nek lacked.

Alassëa beamed, inadvertently making Malagos's chest fill with a flood of warmth. A little smile crossed his crooked mouth, awkward around the tusks that should have been bared in a snarl. "Wonderful," she said brightly. If obliviousness ever had a poster child, it would have been Alassëa.

Thalion gave the half-orc a speculative look, but said nothing. He had a sneaking suspicion, but it wasn't his place to say anything. At least, not yet. "Good. It sounds like the others are ready to move out," he said instead. "Let's get to the lizards. I want to see this city." It would be a refreshing change to move around undisguised. He was tired of pretending to be an orc, which would have been a much greater challenge without an amulet of disguise self.

The others joined him, lashing their gear onto large riding lizards before climbing up into the saddle. Thalion had learned to accept his new mount's means of locomotion, a weird side to side motion rather than the up and down of a horse. It had made him sick at first. Alassëa had taken to it with no problem, though she did walk wide around its mouth after seeing one almost take the hand off of a mercenary. Malagos lead the way, with Alassëa and Thalion close behind. The priestess was actually wearing armor for one of the few times in her life, but she seemed comfortable in the light leather armor. Thalion wore heavier studded leather, while Malagos favored his half-plate that made him a slow, but relentless opponent on the battlefield. The half-drow's greatsword was no less than terrifying to anything that got within its reach. Thalion rarely used his bow, but his longsword had gotten plenty of action.

Nek joined them silently on his own, smaller lizard. The deep gnome's grey skin seemed particularly stony at the moment and his shaven head gleamed dully in the light. Nek dressed in the scales of a deep dragon he had found dead out in the Wilds. He had only taken a small portion of the great creature's hide, but it was enough for an armorer to fashion fine armor from it in the color of an unpolished amethyst. His favorite weapon was a heavy crossbow, but he also carried a wicked mithral mace for when things got up close and personal.

Erelhei-Cinlu in all of its dark beauty was far more either of the elves had been expecting. Alassëa's eyes were wide and marveling as they stopped at an overlook on the very edge of the titanic cavern. "It's amazing," she breathed. "Rilauven and Karsoluithyl...they were nothing like this..."

"Drow do love striking awe. And fear. Mostly fear," Nek commented. He looked over at Thalion with his dark, darting eyes. "Finding your drow in this mess is not gonna be easy. If we even make it through the gate."

Thalion had never told Nek why they were hunting a drow, as his history as an avenger of Shevarash spoke loudly enough in its lie. It was a path that he had walked away from with some regret, but more relief. If only it were the simple vengeance that Nek supposed. That would have been much easier than the truth. "What's the problem with the gate? Malagos says—"

"The merc says a lot of things," Nek said irritably, adjusting his slung crossbow. He was only willing to speak this way because Malagos and Alassëa were out of earshot. "Mostly what'll make the princess there happy. Yeah, you can walk in the city as yourselves and all that, but they have to let us in. That means making it worth their while. We haven't got the coin."

"Do you have a suggestion?" Thalion said, keeping his tone patient. Snapping at Nek wouldn't help, even though they'd have easily had enough money as a bribe if they weren't paying the svirfneblin ranger. The wood elf knew that he at least would be reconsidering their deal once they were in the city.

"You'd better have a chat with the big guy about what the story's gonna be," Nek said with a nod of his head at Malagos.

Thalion spurred his lizard forward, its sudden leap landing him much closer to Malagos and Alassëa. The half-drow was currently explaining some of the city's history to their cleric. "Malagos, how are we getting into the city?"

The mercenary looked over. "Trust me," he said with a broad smile.

It wasn't an answer Thalion liked hearing here in the Underdark, but the former avenger accepted it quietly. What else could he really do? That was clearly all their fearless mercenary intended to say on the subject. Thalion felt himself start to shift uncomfortably and fidget.

Alassëa excused herself from her conversation with Malagos and twisted in the saddle to look back at Thalion. "What's wrong?" she asked in elvish. "You become more agitated the closer we get to the city."

"This is not going to be seamless and that concerns me. I do not wish to see you hurt," Thalion said curtly. Part of him was also afraid. What if he'd been forgotten? What if his lover had moved on and found someone new? He hated to think of it, but everything he had seen of the drow suggested that they were not much of ones for sentiment or fidelity. What right did he even have to ask her for faithfulness? She probably assumed he was dead or on the surface forever.

"I'll be fine," Alassëa said. She offered him a soft smile. "I'm more worried about you."

Thalion shook his head. "I'm fine," he said as he shrugged off the mere idea that he might be anything less than fine. She did not need to know about the fearful anticipation growing in his heart.

"It will take us time to find your drow if she's anything close to as resourceful as you say," Nek said as they neared the massive gates. "We'll need money, favors, people with eyes and ears in the right places. We ought to take adventuring jobs that work from the city as a base. After six months, we can apply for residence." The last word seemed to leave a sour taste in the ranger's mouth.

"Not a fan?" Thalion said dryly.

"Horrible creatures," Nek said of the drow. "Wouldn't want to be in here any longer than I have to."

"You're not obliged to stay, you know."

Nek gave him a look. "You're my paycheck. Now come on. Time's wasting."

The gates were, simply put, behemoths. A small army of drow guards appeared to be scrutinizing everything that went through, collecting tariffs and bribes at the same time. Corruption was something of a norm among the drow, apparently, because the traders shrugged it right off. Caravans coming from areas closer to the surface, such as those of the duergar and svirfneblin, were far less resigned about it. They kept their indignance to themselves, of course. These drow were not inclined to take kindly to back-talk. Thalion tried to imagine an army assaulting this city. In his imagination, the forces broke on Erelhei-Cinlu like a wave against an unyielding cliff.

It took all of a minute before the mercenary band was stopped. "What's this, half-breed? You're bringing faeries into the city?" one of the guards sneered. He was a handsome drow with ivory hair and ebony skin, his armor incredibly well made. Thalion had yet to see a single soldier here poorly equipped. Apparently the drow took their security much, much more seriously than the average surface city. "Armed ones, too."

Malagos pulled an envelope from his satchel. "I have a writ here from House Despana, permitting us entry into the city for the purpose of entering their service," the half-drow said coolly.

The drow snatched the paper away and examined it, lip curling more and more as he read on. Finally, he looked up. "You'll still have to pay the visitor's tax, half-breed. We'll take an elf if you haven't got the gold." He was looking speculatively at Alassëa when he said it, and Thalion felt a cold anger wash through him.

The wood elf's hand started to creep towards his sword until Malagos pulled out coin, effectively putting an end to the offer. "Mine," the half-drow growled quietly to the guard as he leaned down and handed over coin.

The drow shrugged, looking less than intimidated despite the size of the mercenary. His bravery probably stemmed from the fact that there were at least twenty guards within a fifty foot radius who could respond before Malagos so much as blinked threateningly. "Whatever suits you," he said. "But you can't say I didn't offer you a chance to get rid of a whole heap of trouble. This is enough. Take your cloaks."

One of the less important looking guards passed each one of them a dark green cloak, glaring at Alassëa and Thalion intensely and then treating the others with simple disdain. "You will have to wear these wherever you go to announce that you are outlanders and not residents," he said coldly. "Forget them on pain of death."

"Now you will swear on the gods and goddesses that you will not break the laws or customs of the Dark Gem, nor commit a crime against any of its Houses," the drow lieutenant said. "Particularly you elves. At any transgression, you will be punished with all the severity any House may deign to bring to bear upon you. Should you cause affront to the Spider Queen, you will forfeit your life, your belongings, and your soul to the Church and the Demonweb."

Both Alassëa and Thalion felt a chill. "We swear it," they said together anyway, along with the rest of the mercenary band.

The lieutenant gave them a long look, then nodded. "Cloaks on, then get out of my sight. Your pasty skin is making me sick."

Thalion slipped his on and pinned it as Alassëa did the same. Then they followed Malagos out into the crowded masses of the streets. "We'll sell the lizards for coin to get started," the half-drow said. "I just sank the last of ours aside from the boys' pay into that tax. Nek is right, we're best off taking some work. Caravan guards, bodyguards, whatever it takes."

"Prostitution," Nek suggested with wry humor. When Alassëa glared at him, he laughed. "Bet you could get plenty lined up, princess."

"Nek," Malagos growled threateningly.

"You said whatever it takes, big guy. Maybe you should be more specific." Nek seemed oblivious to the irritation of the half-drow. Thalion shrugged it off as the svirfneblin being himself. It wasn't like the ranger actually meant it, despite his rather callous nature.

"Where do we begin?" Thalion asked, derailing Malagos's anger. All around them, he could feel hateful stares. He pulled his hood up, which seemed to alleviate the worst of it once they were a few streets down.

"The Ghetto of Foreigners. It's the only place in the city that outlanders can live," Malagos said, leading the way.

When they saw it, both Thalion and Alassëa felt surges of nauseating anxiety. It was a warren of narrow streets and tottering buildings, walled to keep the chaos and filth from spilling out into the rest of the city. The smell was a creature all its own, the almost overpowering odor of thousands of people living crammed together with minimal amenities for the most part. The crowds were certainly foreign. They could both pick out humans, dwarves, svirfneblin, and many other races passing each other in the streets. Some were clearly making their homes there, while others were adventurers only there for a few days.

"So this is home?" Alassëa said, trying not to hold her breath lest she pass out. The other mercenaries had peeled off, headed towards the Ghetto of Savages where they could find their next employment.

Malagos looked at her and shrugged. "There are worse places in the world," he said cheerfully.

Thalion's lip curled ever so slightly in disgust. "One would have to look very hard to find them."


	2. Vhondryl

House Aleval had not been the problem Khaless anticipated. Their schemes hadn't taken a deep root yet, which proved extremely helpful. A few sabotaged relationships and some concerted reputation-smearing later, she had handicapped at least a few operatives from the shadows. She hadn't even laid eyes on the Weapon Master. All of that barely mattered, however, because it was only two weeks before she got the message to meet at the Lady's again. This time, Ghaundar decided to wait out in the main room, leaving her to walk in alone.

It wasn't Zesanna waiting for her. It was the cleric's consort, Vorn, holding a bundle with a grim expression on his face. Vorn was usually grim, but he was the favored whipping boy of House Xaniqos. She understood. "I am here at my mistress's wishes," he said bluntly by way of greeting. "She has a task for you. Guard this with your life until it is time for Thandysha to see it."

Khaless accepted the bundle and felt her chest tighten with panic when it moved. She didn't want to look. She knew she would regret it. "What do you mean?" she said, hearing the desperate note creeping into her own voice. She cleared her throat to cut the sound. The bundle in her arms moved again. She knew exactly what this was. "I can't do this, Vorn. Tell her to find someone else."

"There is no one else trustworthy enough," Vorn said shortly. He had never been a happy man and this was not one of his finer days. Furthermore, it was well known that Zesanna's child was not his, so his pride had been wounded for the past nine months. "Rauva is already looking." The mention of the first daughter of House Xaniqos chilled Khaless's blood. This was more than dangerous. "You will do this thing if you wish to live in Erelhei-Cinlu, Khaless D'veldrin." The way he stressed the word 'live' suggested that Zesanna had not spoken of the consequences with levity.

Khaless flipped the bundle open and found herself looking down at a sleeping baby. Her stomach had curled into a tight knot, almost but not quite overpowering the strange warmth in her chest. This was going to be hers to protect...and raise. _Vith_ , she thought. She was not a mothering type, not that any female drow really was. "Did Zesanna pick a name?" she asked quietly in defeat.

"Vhondryl," Vorn said. He looked pleased at her submission, though it was a brief flicker in his otherwise sour expression. "I also have a letter from Zesanna to explain further." He flipped the envelope out and handed it to Khaless. "Good luck."

Khaless silently cursed him and the entire bloodline that had resulted in him, but she couldn't really bitch out loud. This wasn't his doing. She looked down at the baby girl in her arms and sighed, knowing that it wouldn't be long before the crying started. She sat down on one of the couches and gently set the slumbering infant down before tearing open the envelope unceremoniously. It read:

 _My shadowy friend,_

 _You know of the deep and abiding affection that my older sister regards me with, and for me to bear a female child is an unspoken threat despite her estimation of my abilities. In keeping with the fine tradition of the drow, she fully intends to make certain my child is removed from our family in the ancient and accustomed manner. I would prefer this not to happen and that is where you enter the picture. You can protect Vhondryl until she is ready to be presented to the Matron. I will of course keep in touch. This task will require a great deal of secrecy and resourcefulness. If anyone were to find out, whether within or without the House, the consequences for Vhondryl and thus myself would be dire. I am well aware that I am putting upon you in the extreme, but the favor that I owe you is matched in its magnitude. If you fail or betray me, however, I cannot vouch for your safety._

 _I expect her to be everything a scion of House Xaniqos should be, and I know that you are one of the few who could shape something such as that. Khaless, look at this as an opportunity. You may be the guiding hand on the arm of a woman destined to be one of the most powerful Matron Mothers in the world of the drow. I doubt she will forget the debt she owes you, just as I will not forget._

 _\- Z._

Khaless sighed and tucked the letter away. She would have to show it to Ghaundar as well, if only to explain the sudden addition to their lives. While part of her had always wondered what it would be like to have a child, she wasn't certain she was alright with having one suddenly thrust upon her. The baby girl started to wriggle and then cry. It was a heart-wrenching sound that immediately pulled fiercely at something deep inside Khaless. Whatever her personal feelings on the matter, there was something more important to take care of. Perhaps she was a selfish creature, but not a naturally sadistic one. The drowess scooped up the infant with a soft, almost cooing sound that she would die before ever letting Ghaundar hear. The crying did not abate and Khaless sighed. Reluctantly, she held the baby a little closer and tighter before stroking white downy hair at the crown of her head. Vhondryl seemed perfectly formed with no bruising, which the rogue knew meant that the baby had been cut out of Zesanna rather than birthed normally. That explained why the high priestess hadn't come herself.

The baby was beginning to be soothed by the touch, if the slowly declining volume of the cry was any indication. Khaless remembered vaguely one of the half-elven followers of Eilistraee she'd met on the surface singing to his infant son. Perhaps it was merely the choice of a lover of song, but perhaps it would work here.

She tucked Vhondryl's tiny head under her chin, wishing for a moment that she wasn't wearing cold and unforgiving armor. The warmth of her throat would reach the swaddled infant. Finally, she cleared her throat. It had been years since she last sang, but she knew her voice would be good enough for such an uncritical ear. She remembered the song about a stone in love, and felt her heart ache. Sometimes she heard it in her thoughts and then it would forever bring her mind to him. A little tremor in her voice, she sang:

"...Years flowed by with laughing grace.  
I memorized his smile, his face,  
The way, in thought, he turned his head—  
And then, so swiftly, he was dead.  
Nevermore will still stones fly,  
Rocks don't die. Rocks don't die..."*

The crying slowly came to a halt as she sang and she felt the wiggling still. She didn't dare look down to see if the baby was still awake. Minutes passed, but the crying did not continue. She could feel a tiny ear pressed against her jugular, listening to her heartbeat. Khaless hummed softly and gently rubbed the delicate back of this marvelous little creature. Her heart was beginning to warm more and more to the idea of this duty. It wasn't what she had expected and it would mean changing her whole life, but it gave her a purpose. A meaning. She had been missing that since she watched her lover die in her arms. It had all happened so fast. If she had been able to just savor the time she had with him, if she could have more than memories and a few drawings...

There was a soft knock at the door and then it opened to reveal an irritated Ghaundar. "Khal, what in the nine hells is taking you so l—" The words died in his throat when she gave him a look that could strike a balor dead. Khaless was not amused.

"If you wake her up, I will _kill_ you," the rogue whispered softly, venom dripping from every word. She stood up and gently eased the baby away from her throat. She flipped the cloth back over to hide the tiny face and arm, then stood up with her precious bundle. "We need to go."

Ghaundar nodded, though he still looked completely baffled. She couldn't blame him. She was still processing herself. Together, they slipped out of the Lady's with minimal attention and headed home. It was only once Vhondryl was safely installed on Khaless's bed that they were safe to talk in hushed voices in the room. Khaless told her friend everything and passed over the letter, which he read with some amusement.

"Deep and abiding affection? The sarcasm is masterful," he said with a soft chuckle. He glanced at Khaless speculatively. "We're not prepared to do this."

"We have to be," the rogue said. She ran her fingers through her hair in that way he had only seen when she was trying to soothe herself during something extremely stressful. "I'll find a wet nurse if you make a crib. Deal?"

"She's sleeping in your room, Khal. Zesanna wants you to take care of it, not me."

Khaless groaned a little loudly and then immediately held her breath. The baby slumbered on and she exhaled in a soft, barely audible sigh. "I have the maternal instincts of a battering ram, Ghaundar," she whispered.

"I know you, Khal," he said more comfortingly. "You do better than you think you will." Her crimson eyes were doubtful when she looked at him and he tried to give her what he thought was a reassuring smile. "Drow women far less suited to motherhood than you have made it work. Look at Matron Thandysha. Zesanna turned out...alive."

"High bar," Khaless said irritably. Almost as if sensing her frustration, the baby woke and started to cry again. "Vith. I need to go find a wet nurse right now."

"Take her with you," Ghaundar advised.

"And have her crying all down the street?" the drowess demanded, wild-eyed. When she sensed he wasn't going to yield, she gave. She wanted to demand that he do it with her status as a female, but she didn't want him to touch the baby with spite anywhere in his demeanor. Vhondryl seemed to respond to the moods of whoever was near her. "Fine."

When she went over and scooped up the baby, the crying slowed to a hiccuping stop. Khaless rocked the infant carefully, feeling that strange warmth in her chest again. She hadn't felt it for a very, very long time. Ghaundar grinned at the sight and the softness he saw in the rogue's features. Maybe this was exactly what she needed, he decided. The little one certainly seemed happier with her around.

"She misses her mother," Khaless said quietly after a few moments, looking up at Ghaundar. It was hard to fathom anyone missing Zesanna, but a baby didn't really know any better.

"You're her mother now, Khal."

It was a terrifying thought for the rogue. She knew how to kill people, how to move silently in the shadows, how to pass without being noticed even in the middle of the busiest cycle, how to mix poisons and concoct antidotes. This, however, was well out of her comfort zone. She tried not to think about it too much as she left on her quest. In the Ghetto of Outcasts, it wasn't hard to find a desperate woman willing to nurse an infant along with her own. Khaless brought enough coin to make all of the woman's problems go away in exchange for a promise of assistance. The disgraced drowess was quick to agree to those terms. Now they had a way to feed Vhondryl.

Fate had plans for her other than a restful night. When she returned, there was indeed a crib waiting. It was plain but comfortable looking enough. Khaless knew from some distant memory that it was important to put a baby down to sleep on its back, so she carefully lay Vhondryl down that way. Sleepy amethyst eyes looked up at her. It wasn't an unheard of color, but it was rarer. Certainly different from Vorn's and Zesanna's, the mark of a father unnamed and unknown at present. Khaless smiled a little and she brushed a soft cheek with the back of two fingers. She didn't like to touch the little baby too firmly, as if worried she would somehow break Vhondryl.

A sixth sense screamed warning, but she turned around instead of ducking like she should have. The boot to the side of her face dropped her for a moment. The world spun and her neck burned in agony. It wasn't broken, but it felt horrible. It was only the blurry sight of a shadowy figure headed towards the cradle that made Khaless move. She kicked out, sweeping the intruder's legs out from under him. He crashed to the floor with a sharp curse, only to find himself being assaulted by a very unhappy, albeit wounded, drowess. She snarled and grabbed for the dagger he had dropped before he could get to it. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt first and she used it to pierce his hand viciously, driving between the bones. He screamed. "Who sent you?" Khaless growled out. She had a knee on his throat before he could react. All she had to do was drop her whole weight and his trachea would be crushed. "Lie to me and you die."

"I—" When she twisted the knife in his hand, he let out a wail. "Rauva!"

"Does she know where the baby is?" Khaless demanded. Her neck ached ferociously and she knew she was going to be miserable. She could hear Vhondryl crying and Ghaundar's frantically hurried steps coming up the stairs.

"No! I haven't reported back yet!" he yelped when she twisted again. The door burst open to reveal Ghaundar, his sword drawn. The metal gleamed dully in the light where the scars on the blade interrupted the smoked dullness of the adamantite weapon.

"Good," Khaless breathed out. She withdrew the knife only to plunge it into his chest, striking his heart with a practiced ease. The assassin thrashed and struggled for a few moments, then gradually fell still. She rose unsteadily to her feet, head swimming from the blow still. She wiped the blood off her hand onto her pants-leg and then scooped up the crying baby. She whispered, "Shh...shh..." and rocked Vhondryl gently.

"Told you that you'd be a great mother," Ghaundar said with a faint smile as he sheathed his sword and padded over to the body. He examined the dead man. Drow, certainly, but no professional assassin. He seemed more like the spy kind, which made some sense. It wasn't as though a baby would put up much of a fight and that blow should have downed Khaless in one hit. "Also, good thing you have a hard head."

Khaless thought about snapping at him, but she'd just managed to calm the baby down. The pain in her head and neck was only getting worse as the adrenaline wore off. She tucked Vhondryl back in the crib and sank into a chair with a groan. She could rock the crib gently with one foot without moving the rest of her body, which was unfortunately connected to the parts of her that were in agony. "I need a cold pack," she said quietly.

For all his flaws, Ghaundar was quick to fetch one. "Do you think there'll be more?" he said as he passed it over so Khaless could apply it to her neck, head, and shoulder.

"Undoubtedly, but not tonight. If Rauva doesn't know, she won't be able to send assassins. This one was probably a fluke, watching and following Vorn. He must have seen the male leave without the bundle of cloth and us exit with her. Can you do something with the body before it starts to smell? I would help, but..."

"No problem, Khal," the grizzled veteran said. He swung the dead body up onto his shoulder. "I'll be back by the time you wake up."

Khaless looked over at the baby. The odds of her catching more than an hour of peaceful sleep were doubtful at best. "Thanks," she said anyway, letting her eyes drift closed as he headed off with his burden. Dead weight was always the worst, but Ghaundar was a particularly strong drow after a lifetime of training for battle.

Hours later, when Ghaundar returned from the Ghetto of the Dead, he found Khaless still in her chair, but leaned back at an angle with the baby lying on her chest. Vhondryl's ear was pressed over her heart to listen to the comforting beat. The two of them were going to get along just fine, he wagered. Khaless would be in a hell of a lot of pain in when she woke up, but for now she was resting. It hadn't taken her long to attach to the baby, which he sort of expected from a follower of Eilistraee. They were usually fairly squishy on the inside and he didn't think of Khaless as an exception to that rule, despite his experience with her bitter side.

The thought of Khaless's faith made him wonder. Would his friend raise the little girl to be a proper servant of Lloth like Zesanna wanted, or would she implant those little seeds of doubt about the way things were? Ghaundar didn't think of himself as a religious man, but he paid his dues to Lloth like the other drow even though he had some secret admiration for the priests of Vhaeraun who had dared to grant power to male drow. Not enough admiration to join them in their ultimately futile crusade, but he at least appreciated what they were trying to do. In Erelhei-Cinlu, he knew that other evil gods were worshipped with the permission of the Church, but never the members of the Dark Seldarine who were bent on 'stealing' followers from Lloth, such as Eilistraee and Vhaeraun.

It was not a choice he envied her in making, but he knew that whatever Khaless did, she would think it was the right thing.

* * *

Settling into the Ghetto of Foreigners had been an almost insurmountable challenge. Thalion and Alassëa found that the non-drow residents of the city still virtually hated them, though there was a sense of community that slowly began to seep through. It was less cheery neighborliness and more a sort of conspiratorial social contract that read without words: see nothing, say nothing. The only way they had found to survive was in Alassëa's healing skills. It made her invaluable, even if they still weren't popular. Malagos and Thalion were the muscle that kept her safe, and Nek was Nek. The svirfneblin's particular brand of charm hadn't faded. He made himself useful in small ways, though. Adventuring jobs were hard to come by for surface elves, but when Malagos was the one doing the asking, they acquired some chances to go root out problems like bandits on the roads. It brought in just enough coin to scrape by on the bare minimum.

"This was not what I imagined finding Khaless would be like," Alassëa admitted in a low tone as she helped Thalion scrub down the table after a patient. The blood had dripped across the surface and onto the floor. Her magical healing could mend without a scar, but there was always a bit of mess left behind. "It's been weeks and we haven't seen any sign of her. I don't even know where to start looking."

Thalion gritted his teeth. He knew Alassëa just wanted to help, but she was stating the obvious—that they didn't have a clue of what was going on—and that grated on him a little bit. This was what neither of them had pictured. Now they didn't even have enough coin to leave the city. Erelhei-Cinlu was a trap as much as Malagos had said it was. Parts of the city were hellish. He could hear the screams of the tortured rising from certain areas. He'd seen the masses of people being moved and auctioned in the Ghetto of Chattel once, though Malagos had drug them through swiftly before they could be mistaken as slaves, their fair faces hidden by the hoods of their green cloaks. So many hopeless faces with vacant eyes, doomed to suffer at the hands of the drow and their servants. Never before had he realized the sheer scale of the evil Shevarash combatted. He didn't know how Khaless could even bear to live in a place like this...provided she was even here in this city. "We might be able to find her through Eilistraee's faithful," he said quietly. He was new to the worship of the Dark Maiden, though he favored Corellon...another, more forceful enemy of Lloth. Eilistraee's faithful showed a gentler path that his war-like nature struggled fiercely with. Vengeance through death of the responsible party was in many ways simpler and easier.

"Those will be hard to find," Malagos said from where he was feeding wood-like mushroom stalks into the hearth to keep the feeble flames burning. The caves felt perpetually cold to Alassëa, the most sensitive of all of them. "The Spider Queen may permit the occasional worship of other gods by outlanders, but She does not tolerate the veneration of Eilistraee and Vhaeraun. They are too dangerous. Besides, Lloth is a jealous goddess. Why would She tolerate anything that might sway the attentions of the drow from her? Lesser races are insects and so she pays them little mind unless they worship her foes."

Thalion exhaled explosively and slammed his hand into the table. "They're a lot easier to find than one drow rogue," he said snappishly. Alassëa, Nek, and Malagos all flinched at the sudden display of anger. He had been so calm for so long, but now he could feel the walls closing in. If they had some actual coin and a whisper to go off of, he knew he would be far less paranoid. "Alassëa, you could ask around discretely. Nek, what about you? You're being suspiciously quiet."

The svirfnebin cleared his throat. "I did some asking around with old friends. They don't know of any Dryaalis in the city, but one of them did recognize the name Khaless," he said. "It's not a common one. Apparently—and this is not common knowledge—she's an associate of Zesanna Xaniqos, one of the nobles around the city."

Thalion felt his heart leap and constrict sharply at the same time. "What does that mean?"

"Well, Zesanna is generally known for selfish indolence and a mindlessly sadistic nature. She's a formidable woman by virtue of her position, but she isn't as cunning, talented, or ambitious as the rest of her family. A strange person for your drow to buddy up with out of all of the options. No one seems to know what exactly goes on with them, just that they meet," Nek explained. He began sharpening his dagger with a thoughtful air.

"That doesn't sound like someone she'd be able to stand," Alassëa said dubiously. "For one, Khal always said she hated nobles."

Nek laughed. "Hatred and aspiration are not mutually exclusive. Zesanna is stupid enough to allow someone to use her. If your drow is borrowing the second daughter to win a Matron's attentions, particularly one as vicious and ambitious as Thandysha Xaniqos...well, then this just got a lot more complicated."

When he saw confusion on the face of the elves, Malagos spoke up. "A noble's favor means wealth, status, and power. A Matron's means triple that," he said. "If the woman you're looking for is a fugitive, she has every reason to get as close to the powerful in Erelhei-Cinlu as she can. A patron like that could keep her safe."

"But House Baenre—" Alassëa started.

Nek chuckled as he swiped the blade across the oiled sharpening stone. "Baenre doesn't rule a scrap of land anywhere near this city and couldn't muster a one-man army," he said. "Their Matron could have a bitch-fit in the street and the eight ruling houses here wouldn't bat an eye. Well, they might have her arrested for causing a disturbance. Verdaeth would probably enjoy that." When he saw the blank look, he clarified, "The Matron of House Tormtor. She runs the city, at least in name. It's really all eight of them: Verdaeth Tormtor, Mevremas Aleval, Shehirae Despana, Ythesha'na Shi'qos, Siadef Godeep, Sereska Vae, Eclavdra Eilservs, and Thandysha Xaniqos. These are names you ought to know by now."

"We're new to the city, Nek," Alassëa pointed out.

The svirfneblin snorted. "So am I. I learned it. Live elbow to elbow with the drow and it pays to know who not to piss off. If your drow is caught up in politics, my advice is to stay away. That's a fool's game for an outlander. Hell, it is for most drow."

"Noted," Thalion said brusquely. "Nek, did your friend say where we could potentially find this Khaless?"

The deep gnome appeared to contemplate this deeply. "You know, finding this information was expensive," he said after a moment's deliberation.

"Oh, come on. Tell us because we're friends," Alassëa said with a gentle pleading.

Nek all but rolled his eyes. "This is the Underdark, princess. Nobody's a friend to anybody. You want me to scratch your back, you'd better scratch mine. Reciprocity," the svirneblin said, examining his knife's edge for a moment. It only took a few more scrapes and then he was satisfied.

"What do you want?" Thalion said grimly. Whatever the task, it wouldn't be easy if Nek was deigning to ask for help. The wood elf was furious with the delay, but he knew getting angry wouldn't help.

"I have some outstanding debts to a drow merchant, Callimar Faertala. He's hired some rather unpleasant men to collect those debts. If you could make those men go away and convince Callimar to forgive the debts, I'll tell you everything I know now about this Khaless woman and whatever else I can find out about her. Deal?" Nek said.

Thalion fought the urge to groan. "Deal," he said, standing up from the stool he'd seated himself on. "Do these men have names?"

"Dunno about the peons, but their leader is a great big orc named Vargan Blackblade," Nek said. "They're looking for me at the Destitute Prince. It's mostly svirfneblin and duergar there, so you'll stand out even with hoods up. Granted, so will he and his bully boys."

"You coming, Nek?" Malagos grunted as he stood from his crouch by the fire. The half-drow didn't exactly look happy, but he was used to the way the Underdark worked and Nek was the rule rather than the exception.

"Nah. I'll mind the home front. You're quite capable on your own, judging from what I've seen," the deep gnome said. It was true. In the many battles they'd fought in the Underdark, Thalion and Alassëa had given as good as they got or better even before they had joined up with Malagos. That was the only reason the two of them were still breathing. The hook horror had been a dangerously close call. Thalion still remembered the massive hook embedded in his flesh as it scraped him along the cavern walls and floor by his thigh. Alassëa blinded it and Nek shot it until it let go, fortunately. The beast then retreated into the darkness, leaving their cleric to patch up the group.

The three donned their full armor and weapons, knowing that a knife could be waiting in any alley or around any corner. The green cloaks followed—it was not a rule they planned on breaking. Thalion and Alassëa both liked their heads firmly attached. Once they were out in the street, Malagos looked over at the pair of surface elves. "This merchant...he will likely not negotiate well with elves. We may have to bash his ears open."

"I feel like assaulting a drow citizen is a bad idea," Alassëa said, clearly uncomfortable with the notion. "We could be imprisoned."

"Alassëa, be realistic," Thalion said with a grim humor. "They'd never imprison us. Torture is much more fun."

"Very funny," the cleric said, shooting him a glare. "I'm being serious. A fight is the last thing we need."

"Then we hope he sees reason. And if he doesn't, we hope we don't get caught," the wood elf said, shrugging his shoulders. "From what I can tell, the drow don't really have watch in the traditional sense. There are guards, but they belong to different Houses in different districts. If we get into hot water with one, we can just run into a different one's territory. Like gangs."

"You're not wrong," Malagos admitted. "While there is law in the city, it is largely handled by the different ruling Houses. That, and personal revenge. The justice you have is that which you can exact yourself. Rarely will guards interfere with vengeance. Drow should be strong enough to fend for themselves. If they die, they were weak and did not deserve to live."

"That's horrible," Alassëa said despite the fact that she knew it was the reality of the drow world. She had seen enough of that in Rilauven and Karsoluithyl to know that. It still felt gnawingly wrong to her. "How can people live like this?"

"These are ancient customs, laid down at the founding of the city long, long ago. Traditional is best as far as the rulers of Erelhei-Cinlu and its people are concerned," Malagos said with a shrug. "It has not steered them wrong. Breaking with the tradition brought about the Priestess Wars and the assault on the Fane. Ugly and unpleasant as it may be, it is not inclined to change."

Together, they passed through the streets and largely ignored the evil eye they received from other people on the street, particularly the drow. They were not accustomed to friendly looks after a couple of weeks in the city. Even if they were too distant to be recognized as elves, the color of their skin was enough to draw relentless ire. Never before had Thalion felt himself in so alien and unforgiving of a world. They had spent most of their time in the Wilds prior to Erelhei-Cinlu and so he had never been forced to adapt to a drow city until now. They found the tavern with some help from Malagos, who was learning the city much faster than them. Alassëa still relied largely on Undercommon. Thalion spoke fairly fluent Drow, albeit with an easily noticeable accent. Neither of them would be going undercover as drow at any point in the near future.

The Destitute Prince was a good name for the bastion of tattered remnants of glory that made up the tavern on a corner here in the Ghetto of Foreigners. Its ostentatious front was in ruins, beautiful windows spattered with mud or damaged by cracks. The edifice was generally run down and the interior was little better. The furniture seemed in varying states of repair with not a single new stick in the place. The floor looked like it had never been swept and the corners were full of cobwebs. The people looked downtrodden, though not as hopeless as the average slave. They were just clearly aware of the oppression of the drow, who were noticeably absent in this bar. The crowd was primarily duergar, with humans mixed in. They were definitely the only elves. "Found him," Alassëa whispered as she fixated on their brutish quarry, her eyes going wide.

Big was an understatement of Vargan Blackblade, the orc looming over the counter near a gang of poorly armored thugs. He towered like a mountain with a shadow so large that it could have crushed a full-grown man if it had any weight. Alassëa looked like a dwarf in comparison. He wore a black, wicked looking blade with saw teeth. There were bits of flesh clinging to the bastard sword, rotting away and lending the blade the ability to grant infections to anyone it struck. It was as effective as any poison, if slow and agonizing. Vargan wore plates of varying metal bent into shape and then strapped to various parts of his body, every single one of them as scarred as the body beneath. His face was like a fist, blocky and ugly without much of a nose. One of his yellow tusks was broken to a jagged edge, jutting out of a ferocious underbite. "Vith," Malagos muttered. The half-drow was shrimpy compared to the full-blooded version.

"Who the hell did Nek piss off?" Thalion demanded, cursing their gnome in his head.

"We could always try to find Khaless on our own," Alassëa said nervously even as she trailed after Thalion. The wood elf was approaching the big orc without a trace of fear, though a significant amount of caution.

"Might be worth it," Malagos mused. "Maybe we should have brought them Nek. Might be a reward...like not being killed. The thugs don't look so tough, but Vargan looks like he could tear off Thalion's arm and beat him to death with it."

Alassëa winced at the mental image.

Ahead, Thalion cleared his throat. "You Vargan?" he asked, sizing up the orc. He didn't like his chances any more than Malagos did. Not here in a bar without the element of surprise. From a distance with a bow from ambush, he would have been much more comfortable.

"Who wants to know?" the mountain of an orc rumbled, grinning a little as he turned around to see the wood elf, who was a good two feet shorter than him. Thalion was not a small elf, either.

"Thalion Vanafidon," the elf said. He knew better than to say he was a friend of Nek's. For one, it would be a lie—he only tolerated Nek, as opposed to befriending him—and two, it would probably get him thrown through the particularly solid looking walls. "I'm looking for Callimar Faertala. Word is that you work for him."

"Yeah?" the orc said, piggish dark eyes now focused intently on the elf. "And why would Callimar want to talk to a faerie?"

Now Thalion knew he would have to think very, very quickly to avoid things going sour. "I have information that he'd like, about one of his rivals operating here in the Ghetto."

The wood elf was seized by his collar and lifted off the ground like a child's doll until he was eye to eye with the orc. Alassëa stifled a gasp and looked over at Malagos. "Do something!" she whispered.

"I think he's got this," Malagos said with a confidence he didn't really feel.

Thalion stared into Vargan's eyes with all the intensity he could muster, hand sitting on his sword's hilt. "We're all friends here," Thalion said pleasantly. "You could probably kill me, Vargan, but I could cut you so bad you'd never be able to chew your own food again. That really a risk you want to run?"

The orc chuckled. "Brave, for a faerie." He set the elf down a little bit roughly.

"Smart, for an orc," Thalion said. He knew he was pushing his luck, but he couldn't afford to look like a minnow in a city full of sharks.

"Callimar is upstairs," Vargan said, motioning towards the stairway. "Let's go see if he likes what you have to say."

Thalion glanced back at Malagos and Alassëa, who both looked anything but reassured. "You two can wait here if you want," he offered.

Alassëa shook her head. "I'm going with you," she said. "We're in this together."

Malagos sighed and adjusted his greatsword across his back, a clear indicator that he was coming too. He was just a little more reluctant about it than Alassëa.

They walked up the creaking, narrow stairs after Vargan, who barely fit in the hallway. It opened up on the second floor into a wide corridor with doors to rooms on either side. Vargan walked to the very end and opened it. "Master Callimar, there are faeries here to see you. And they brought a half-breed," the orc rumbled.

Inside was a male drow dressed in expensive, dark silks with a brilliant blue sash. The dark elf leaned back in his seat as if he owned the whole of the tavern, and his feet were propped up on the table. "Excellent. Let them in," Callimar said, his crimson eyes seeming to light up. "You can wait out in the hallway." Vargan growled, but didn't argue. He allowed Thalion, Alassëa, and Malagos to enter and then closed the door behind them with a very final thud. Callimar studied them appraisingly for a long moment. "I presume this is about the outstanding debts of one Nek Stonestrider and not, in fact, a courtesy call."

"You made it sound like you were expecting us," Thalion said, crossing his arms.

"I was," Callimar said pleasantly, removing his feet from the edge of the table. He sat up straight and then motioned for them to seat themselves at the table across from him. "My mistress suggested that you might stop by. She knew of your association with the miserable little creature who was asking all of those rather untoward questions. Now, me? I'm a firm believer in privacy."

"Your mistress?" Alassëa said curiously.

Callimar chuckled, sounding almost friendly. "Privacy, as I said. Regardless, I simply cannot release your little associate from his debts. If word got around that people didn't have to pay Callimar Faertala...well, Vargan would be cracking that many more heads. Reputation is everything in business, I find. Now, if you were to pay off said debts, then we would have no problem."

"And if we, say, didn't have that coin?" Malagos said, looking over at Thalion.

"Well, I'd suggest that you pay it in some other way. Like work," Callimar said. He was still smiling in that unnervingly pleasant way. The lack of overt hatred was deeply unsettling to the elves. He poured himself a small glass of some kind of sharp-smelling liqueur. "Drink?" When all three shook their heads in unison, he chuckled. "Why would I poison you? I want you to do work for me. You see, my mistress has put out a substantial reward for a lost relic from the time of the first war between the drow and the faeries, just before the founding of Erelhei-Cinlu. It is a collector's piece, a statuette of the Goddess. The kind of thing that Houses clamber for because it might be evidence that the Spider Queen favors them."

"And why ask elves to fetch it?" Thalion asked.

Callimar sipped from his small glass. "Because it is in an elven shrine. Here, beneath the earth. I believe it sank in one of the great cataclysms of the first war. The shrine has defenses. I do not believe they would be activated if it were faeries to walk in, whereas if I or Vargan walked in unaccompanied, they would. Besides, mercenaries are expensive. If you die, I really haven't lost anything, now have I? Call it pragmatism."

Thalion actually felt himself relax a little bit at the last comment. A cavalier attitude towards the death of elves was something more in line with what he'd expected. Overt friendliness made him suspicious, and rightfully so, knowing the nature of the drow. He was well aware that drow were more than just hateful—they were cunning, charming, and extremely dangerous. He also realized that he had a potential chance to glean information, even if it meant risk. "Have you ever heard the name Khaless?" he asked.

Something flickered in Callimar's expression, but Thalion had no idea what it was. He wasn't a creature of subtlety like their drow host was and the former avenger hadn't been privy to the miniscule maneuverings that were part of everyday conversation between drow despite their travels. He didn't have someone to introduce him to it or point things out. Even Malagos was ignorant of most of it, as he'd grown up largely with his orcish half. Perhaps if he had seen Khaless among her people, he would have had a better idea of how much a mere glance could communicate. "Now why would you be looking for a drow?" Callimar said, his pleasantness still there. There was just a tiny note of caution as he felt out the waters.

Alassëa and Malagos exchanged a look. They could either say the right thing or the wrong thing here, forever ending their line of inquiry or opening it up to reveal an answer. But it was Thalion who spoke, taking a surprisingly oblique path for him. "We crossed paths. Beyond that, it's our business," he said a bit bluntly.

Callimar cleared his throat. "The name is vaguely familiar," he said offhandedly. "I think a rival of mine once hired a woman of that name to obtain an object from someone who did not want to sell said object. I presume she's just another guttersnipe. Now, the relic. I'm sending Vargan with you to make certain you do not deliver that item to anyone but me. It shouldn't be very large, so it's not as though you'll need help carrying it."

Thalion wasn't an expert, but he knew what someone avoiding a topic sounded like. Callimar knew something. Unfortunately, they had no leverage over the merchant to get a word out of him on the subject. "We might need the help in battle," Thalion said. "Provided, of course, he doesn't just kill us and take it."

"Tempting though that may be, I believe I might have future use for people of your caliber," Callimar said pleasantly. "Now, let us break out the map. I know the approximate location of the shrine from the reports of a few scouts, but not the exact place. The scouts in question never returned alive, you see. Their journals were found out in the Wilds after their bags were carried off by ettercaps. Will one of you fetch Vargan? He'll want to see this as well..."

* * *

*slightly modified version of _Old Rock Sings_ from Gemstone IV _._


	3. Near Misses

Khaless went seeking Vorn inside House Xaniqos's palatial estate. Zesanna's consort knew everything going on in the House itself, particularly what schemes the daughters of Thandysha engaged in against each other. She had met the man on many occasions, usually when he was at Zesanna's side like a faithful sentinel. Despite all of his loyalty, however, it was a well known fact that she allowed him to be used and abused by others. It was logically an insult to Zesanna's own pride, but one she allowed to go unavenged to maintain the appearance of her own incompetence. The plan threw Vorn under the carriage, but the noble maintained her protective illusion. Rauva, House Xaniqos's first daughter, only occasionally tormented him, but she was by far the worst. Thandysha's eldest had a reputation for being able to break anyone and she tested her methods on those around her whenever possible. No lowly male was safe, not even Vorn.

The door was standing open just a fraction, so Khaless knocked cautiously before opening it. "Vorn?" she said cautiously. "It's D'veldrin."

"Come in and close the door," the male answered through gritted teeth as he levered himself up in bed. He was so battered that Khaless was actually taken aback. She'd seen males abused plenty of times, but rarely did it look like someone had sat down and carefully calculated exactly how much pain they could inflict without actually crippling or killing. The way he reached over to the nightstand drawer for a tin of healing salve indicated that this was not the first time this had happened. Raw, bloody strips of skinless flesh were visible over the flexing muscles of a well-defined back and welts formed all over his body, usually in the long lash-marks of a snakewhip. She could see places where his scalp was bleeding from having hair pulled.

Without waiting for an invitation, she approached and carefully produced a hip-flask she kept full of healing potion for in case things ever went badly on a job. It would be much more effective than some minor salve. "Here," she said. He accepted it without a word, eyes downcast. It was only when the relief suddenly came after drinking it that he looked up at her with surprise marked in his features. The wounds were beginning to knit together, leaving tender but whole flesh in their wake. It wasn't as thorough as a priestess's healing, but in many ways it was gentler. "Better?"

"Are you here to laugh, or did you need something?" Vorn said brusquely. She could see the hidden injury in his dark eyes. Rauva had said something, done something, that cut him deeper than any blade could ever reach.

Khaless sat down on the edge of the bed, feeling that little ache in her chest for him that she'd always felt for Ghaundar whenever he caught the worst of her sister. Vorn and her friend chatted on occasion, sometimes on downright friendly terms after a few drinks. It was the only way she knew his story at all. "Vorn," she said softly and patiently. She waited until he looked at her before continuing, "I'm not here to laugh."

"Then why _are_ you here?" he snapped.

The rogue recalculated her plans for the immediate future. Vorn needed someone and she was the only drow in the area who was even able to lend a sympathetic ear. She had a responsibility because of her faith that could not be ignored. "Just to talk," she said quietly. "You are a friendly face right now and I have few of those. Nor do you have many, I imagine."

He looked like he wanted to make a noise of disbelief, but something else was holding him back from it. She knew that look. It meant, I want to talk, but will you listen? "You're worse than Rauva," he muttered. "At least she doesn't pretend to be kind."

"That's not why I'm here," Khaless said, studying his face.

Vorn gave a long-suffering sigh. "Fine. Rauva decided she wanted a toy. Her consort is dead and she's angry with Zesanna, so I was the natural choice," he said bluntly. "It's the way it is. What was I going to tell her? No? She'd have just laughed and gutted me."

"I know," the rogue said. She understood submitting for survival's sake, even if her own experiences were in a different vein. Fate was her master. Others had defied the odds successfully, but never her. Now it was easier just to keep her head down and accept it. Khaless fought the unnatural urge to somehow comfort Vorn, perhaps by touching his hand with her own. She had done more than enough by offering him that potion of healing. "It just...remember that it doesn't have to hurt."

Vorn looked at her with such confusion in his dark eyes then. It made her realize that no one had ever touched him without inflicting pain. No one had ever bothered to be patient and gentle...at least, as much drow ever were. Khaless understood why it was that way—sex was more about power and one's own pleasure than anything else—but she could never bring herself to agree. Even before she found Eilistraee, she hadn't been rough enough to do harm. Nor had she ever taken someone unwilling to bed. She had been selfish, yes, but never malicious. Compared to Rauva, that probably made her a saint. She shifted on the bed, looking at Vorn. He finally said, in a tone warring between faint, beaten-down hope and omnipresent resignation to the way things were, "How can it not?"

Romance was like a surface flower, something beautiful and delicate and utterly unsuited to survive in the Underdark. But she had brought stories and drawings of roses back down into the depths with her, hadn't she? "Sometimes, you can find a lover who treats you with respect. One who is generous enough to think of you as well as themselves. Ghaundar had one like that. Her name was Vaene. He still would prefer her around, I think."

"And are you so generous, Khaless?" Vorn said. She looked over at him and saw a sudden flaring of lust in those dark eyes. The merest idea of not being hurt was intoxicating to him. He raised his hand, touching fingertips to her face. It had been a long time since someone touched her like that. Everything she had ever heard from Zesanna indicated that Vorn was quite talented as a lover. She would be stupid to refuse. The priestess who owned him didn't care.

Khaless turned her head away from his touch. "I have a lover."

"Who abandoned you in death," Vorn said. His voice wasn't harsh or cruel. It sounded as if he understood loss, and she was willing to wager that he really did. So many drow were familiar with seeing the things they cared for destroyed. It was the nature of life. "He's gone. I'm right here. Khaless, please look at me." He was pleading now. She turned back. He had shifted closer, his hip almost touching her knee. Vorn was an attractive male, as was to be expected from the consort of a noble. His jaw was a bit on the square side and his eyes were dark like onyx instead of a colored gemstone hue, but he still possessed the harsh handsomeness of a drow man. "I could make you forget your pain for a while, and you could do the same for me. Do you think your dead lover would want you to suffer lonely for centuries?"

"Vorn," she sighed, feeling a sort of bittersweetness. His offer was so tempting. It had been a long, long time and she knew what he was saying was probably true. But she also knew that she wasn't ready to let Thalion go and that had the potential to hurt Vorn far more than Rauva ever could. "I can't be what you need."

"Then be what I want," he said, leaning in to kiss her. Khaless was so surprised that he was willing to gamble everything by taking the initiative that she forgot to dodge it. The kiss was very...drow. Ferocious and passionate, it stole her breath away. She caught his chin and gently held him, forcing him not to pursue it too deeply. Instead, she shifted it so that the kiss was delicate and soft. It was completely unlike anything that Vorn had ever known. His hands had moved to her back, pressing her armored form into his bare chest despite the fact that it was cold. When they broke apart, he looked at her with wondering eyes. "It didn't hurt."

"Vorn, I mean it. I won't do this," Khaless said more firmly, ignoring the parts of her skin that were now warm to the touch. She was so starved for intimacy at this point that she was almost willing to throw everything she believed about love from song and story out the window for this.

"Why am I not good enough?" Vorn said. He started to comb his fingers through her snow-white hair in a way that almost made her want to purr. She pulled back and caught his hand in her own. He looked startled. He had been expecting her to pull away, but not to keep his hand and give it a soft squeeze.

"You are more than good enough for any woman," Khaless said reassuringly. It wasn't a lie. A lot of females with lower status than Zesanna and Rauva, commoners like Khaless, would have easily killed to be in her place. "I have nothing to offer you, Vorn. I'm not ready to let him go." She could tell he was judging her sincerity and so she hid nothing from his scrutinizing eyes. It was strange to reveal anything she was feeling or thinking to anyone.

"He must have been something," Vorn said. He was confused—but also impressed—by Khaless's loyalty. He had never seen a female actually give an iota of devotion to a male before. Oh, it stung to come second to someone else, but it reinforced in his mind that if he could manage to somehow capture Khaless's attentions, it would be supremely worthwhile. Could she look at him with the same softness that touched those ruby eyes when she thought about what she'd lost?

"He was," Khaless said quietly. She pulled away, but before she could stand up, Vorn caught her hand.

"Kiss me like that again," he said. It would do one of two things: draw Khaless into overcoming her resistance to the idea of him, or genuinely give him something to hold onto in hope she might change her mind. "Just once. I want to remember it the next time Rauva or Zesanna call on me."

The twisting in her chest told her to allow him at least that much. She leaned in and framed his face with her hands, looking deeply into dark eyes. He felt suddenly open as those searching crimson eyes studied his, hunting for sincerity. She found enough that she gave in to the request. She gently pressed her lips to his, running her thumb along his cheekbone the way Thalion had once touched her. She kept it soft and simple, away from the forceful kind that priestesses used to take instead of give. It was a brief and fragile moment, broken as soon as she pulled back. "I'm sorry, Vorn," she said quietly, avoiding his eyes when she stood up. It was strange to him to see a female drop her gaze.

"If you ever change your mind…" he offered, letting it trail off.

Khaless just nodded and walked out to the door at a carefully measured pace. She didn't want to give the impression that she was running away, as honesty was unbefitting a creature like herself. Once she was around a few corners, she took in a few deep and shuddering breaths. That had been too close to vulnerable areas. In addition, she hadn't learned what she came here to learn. She heard approaching feet and immediately tensed. No one was supposed to know she was here and if she wanted to escape Rauva's notice, it would have to stay that way.

The rogue looked around for a good place to hide and found a small alcove occupied by a statue of a spider, the walls graven to look like webs. There were at least a dozen actual spiders of moderate size in there, each one spinning its own real web. Khaless didn't mind sharing space with them. Even if she wasn't faithful to Lloth, she had grown up surrounded by the creatures and she still respected them. Khaless ducked into the alcove and squeezed in between the statue and the wall, the wideness of the base creating a space just barely large enough for a drowess as small and flexible as the renegade.

"Callimar said he found capable creatures to retrieve the statue," Rauva's voice said clearly. "It will be in your hands before the month is over."

The next voice, honey-sweet and smooth, chilled Khaless to the bone. She knew exactly who was speaking. It wasn't the first time she'd inadvertently eavesdropped on this pair. "I should certainly hope so, Rauva," Matron Mother Thandysha Xaniqos said. "If another House were to recover it first, I would be displeased with you." The obvious threat remained otherwise unspoken.

"Understood, Matron." Rauva paused and then continued, "Why have you not punished Zesanna? She broke with tradition. She gave her child to someone beyond the family to be weaned and trained."

Thandysha actually laughed for the first time that Khaless had ever heard, not that she frequented the company of any Matron. "What, punish Zesanna for finally showing an ounce of cunning?"

"She's a fool. For all we know, she entrusted the task to a male," Rauva said. They had paused near the alcove. Khaless realized with no small amount of horror that Thandysha was currently examining the statue, or at least that was her best guess as to what was delaying them.

"Your sister is lazy and incompetent, not blindly stupid," Thandysha said casually. Then she sighed. "We will have to do something about these faeries that Verdaeth has permitted in the city."

"I doubt the Matron Tormtor has been made aware of their presence as of yet," her daughter said. "Allow me time to devise something. Clearly they are here for a reason. If I can discover what, I will have the key to breaking them. First, they have to trust. That will require time, perhaps even years. Besides, one of them is a cleric of Eilistraee. They may yet lead us to a rot within the city that can be purged. The Spider Queen would likely be pleased."

"You and your toys," Thandysha said with a chuckle. She sounded amused by her daughter's plan. "Very well, you may have your time. I expect it to be a case of magnificent self-destruction. I want them to write their own fate, to know with perfect clarity that they were the architects of their own downfall."

"Is there any other way to eliminate a foe of the Goddess?" Rauva said sweetly.

The two started moving again at that, their conversation shifting to their good fortune in House Aleval's failure to expand their influence in the city, events known only to a few attentive souls. Khaless waited until they had rounded the corner to ease her burning body from the cracks. Surface elves. She could hardly believe that such creatures were allowed into the city. Maybe as slaves. She pitied them their fate, but she wasn't ready to put herself on the line for strangers. Her curiosity was aroused enough that she would put out feelers and see what could be learned, but she had a priority right now. She still didn't know anything more than she had before. However, she had been away long enough and she was pushing her luck.

Khaless made her way out of the estate and down the wide, clean avenues. This area was heavily patrolled, but she knew how to evade capture or questioning. From here, the whole of the Vault was visible. It was a massive cavern, the walls hundreds of feet high, so large that the edges were not visible and instead gave a hazy impression of stretching onward forever. At the zenith glowed a huge mass of a strange mineral that gave off an amethyst light as brilliant as the moon if one had the darkvision of a drow, its rays touching crystalline formations that reflected back colors unknown to any races of the surface. Much smaller deposits were embedded in the ceiling of the Vault, each one glimmering like a tiny star in blue and violet hues. Fungi grew in gold and red ochres, vermillion and aquamarine shades. The Pitchy Flow, the river, swirled beneath the mighty structure of the Flying Bridge as a dark, glassy surface like obsidian broken only by the silver swirls where the river struck ebon jetties and the pillars supporting the bridge itself.

Beyond the city walls, the Vault was practically teeming with life as far as the Underdark went. The countryside was full of abnormally large lichen, strange crystalline growths both large and small, and fungi of every size and description. There were shelf fungi, morels, branching types, puffballs, horsetails, and more conventional mushrooms as well. Various sorts of yeasts, smuts, rusts, blights, and molds of huge size grew upon some of the toadstools and strange fungi. Among that forest, rothé and lizards ate in preparation for ending up on the tables of the city's inhabitants. Khaless felt a little, comfortable sort of warmth in her chest. This was her home, and it was beautiful—an oasis of life amongst the desolation of the Underdark. Sometimes in her thoughts of the sky, she neglected to pay attention to how wonderful her homeland could be. Surface elves would never believe the dark beauty of the Underdark, considering they only saw the barren caves and tunnels that touched the surface.

Her feet wound their way back to her home as her thoughts spun. Eventually, she would have to tell Ghaundar what had happened with Vorn before he found out from Zesanna's consort. Being honest would avoid future humiliation. There were few things a proud creature like Khaless hated more than being taunted.

"I'm back!" she called out after slipping in the door. Ghaundar was waiting, a sleeping baby in his arms. The grizzled male did not look happy.

"She's been crying for hours, probably for you," he said irritably, passing Vhondryl over carefully. He knew better than to do any harm to Zesanna's daughter. "Wore herself out."

Khaless nodded and accepted her charge. She was growing more and more comfortable with the feeling of the little girl in her arms. Moments like this when Vhondryl was quietly sleeping made that warmth flare in the center of her chest. It was a wonderful distraction from everything complicated in her life. She sat down on the silk-covered divan across from Ghaundar. "Vorn propositioned me," she said quietly.

Ghaundar's eyes went wide for a moment. "Well, I knew he stared at you hard enough to crack granite, but I didn't think he'd actually do it," he said, impressed despite himself. Vorn was usually like a kicked animal around females, and rightfully so.

The rogue's jaw tightened. "And when, exactly, were you going to tell me about that staring?"

"Like I said, I didn't think he would do anything. Looking's not a crime, Khal. Take it as a compliment," Ghaundar said with a shrug. "Why'd you turn him down?"

"Why do you think?" Khaless said, keeping her voice low to avoid waking the baby even though she wanted to scream at him. The anger and frustration had come from nowhere, but she knew what it was: grief. Vorn had reminded her of what she'd lost, of the touch she would never get to feel again.

"What did you tell me after Vaene died?" Ghaundar said evenly. "You told me that I shouldn't let her loss cripple me, that she would have wanted me to be happy even if it meant being with someone else. Why are you any different?"

She was startled by having her words thrown back in her face after all this time, more because she was surprised that he had bothered to remember than anything else. "I—"

"You're being selfish, Khal," he said bluntly. "You could be good to Vorn. You could give him something that he's never had."

"It wouldn't be right," Khaless said without hesitating. "I can't let it go, Ghaundar. You were strong enough to start over. I'm not. Vorn deserves someone who can be his whole world."

"Have you even tried to move on?" Ghaundar asked. His tone was a bit cutting, but he imagined he had to give her an active push at this point. "Vorn is your chance. Even if you can't move on completely, he won't complain. Anything you give him would make him a hell of a lot happier than he is now."

The burn was starting in her eyes. That horrible raw feeling and the threat of tears were back for the first time in a long time. "Goddess damn it," she said thickly. "I just want him back."

Ghaundar abandoned his assault. He rose and walked over, then seated himself beside her and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. He pulled her against his deep chest, knowing that his friend needed someone even though she would never admit to it or ask for it. They both froze when they heard a hiccup from the baby.

Khaless looked down and saw amethyst eyes studying her with an ageless gravity. She smiled despite herself and felt the pain ease a little bit. "Hey you," she said softly to the baby, tickling one hand with a finger. Immediately, Vhondryl's hand closed tightly around that finger. "Ghaundar says you were crying earlier. How come?" Khaless asked the dozing infant. Those large eyes blinked sleepily at her and then closed peacefully.

"Put her upstairs?" Ghaundar suggested.

"I think so. I need to sit down and make some more arrows, too. If we're going to have problems, I'd rather be prepared than not."

He sighed. "This conversation about you and Vorn isn't over," he said. "Oh, and one more thing. Have you heard about the surface elves?" He knew that would be a loaded subject for Khaless. She avoided the surface like the plague now and he was well aware of why. This was a probing question, a gauge of where she was at.

"Yes. Rauva has plans for them. Unkind ones," Khaless said. She took a breath. "I might have to walk into danger. One of them is a cleric of Eilistraee, and if Rauva has her way, that elf will be revealing the whole network of us in the city." She knew Ghaundar didn't exactly approve of her choice of faith, but he did understand why she'd walk away from Lloth after everything. "If it gets too bad, I'll have to kill the elf."

"Could it be one of your friends?" Ghaundar asked.

Khaless thought of Alassëa and Rûdhon, so far away from her. They were back above the Northdark and Menzoberranzan. "They know better than to attempt it. I warned them well about the dangers of the Underdark. Even Alassëa isn't that reckless," Khaless said with a shake of her head.

"Would your lover have come after you? If he'd lived," Ghaundar asked more gently. "Perhaps they would do it on his behalf."

Khaless looked torn by the idea. She wasn't certain what Thalion would have done, nor was she certain what she would have wanted. Above all, she wished he could have been happy, even if that meant he wasn't with her. He should have been able to move on like Ghaundar. Instead, he was dead and it was her fault. That arrow was meant for her. Sometimes she wished Ghaundar hadn't dragged her away from his still form and the blinding lights of the elven village. "I don't know," she said finally. "I like to think that he would have forgotten me and started again. A family, a life, a love. I...don't know."

Ghaundar knew that was the end of their conversation on the subject.

She scooped up Vhondryl and headed up the stairs. Khaless knew navigating at least the immediate future would not be easy. She was contemplating the possibility of leaving Erelhei-Cinlu with the baby for a few years. She would miss her home, but in some ways the Wilds were safer for Vhondryl than the city. Ghaundar could hold down the fort working for Zesanna. It would also take her away from the conflicting emotions of the situation with Vorn. Part of her wanted to be footloose again. She couldn't really adventure with her current charge, but she could see the sights of the Underdark. The more she thought of it, the more she warmed to the idea. A voluntary exile from the dark gem of Erelhei-Cinlu was probably wiser than remaining if there were intrigues being pushed into place by Rauva and even her own mistress, Zesanna. Khaless had not survived this long by being a fool. She knew she could only hide in plain sight for so long.

It would also isolate Vhondryl from the dangers of politics that she was too young to understand. Perhaps it would also protect her from the whims of Lloth. Khaless knew that she would have to teach Vhondryl to be faithful to the Spider Queen, if only for survival's sake, but maybe she could curb any natural tendencies towards sadism. If she could work to convince a drow noble of any age that only necessary violence was to be used, Khaless would consider it the victory of a lifetime.

There was no way to say for certain what she would do yet, but it was starting to feel like she had a plan.

* * *

Thalion cursed to himself as they crested the last of many jagged ridges that lead gradually upward and upward. It was like scaling a mountain beneath the earth. The ground here in these tunnels was barren, broken up only occasionally by shelf fungi and patches of mold. A dripping sound permeated the area as echoes and the rock was slick with damp. His eyes went wide when he saw what was waiting for them—a massive rift in the earth, an underground gorge as large as the city of Erelhei-Cinlu. This was the kind of crack that could only be created by great cataclysms like those of the war when Lloth was cast into the Abyss. The blackness gaped before them, the other side only distantly visible and the depths lost to darkness. "This is..."

Malagos sighed and leaned on his spear, standing just behind Thalion. "Callimar conveniently forgot to mention this."

There was a deep chuckle from Vargan. "Maybe he thought you could handle it," the massive orc said, his voice deep and growling. He and the elves had been walking in a wary truce, with Alassëa keeping a particularly close eye on their newest companion.

"We can," Alassëa said. "It'll just be...difficult. We need a way down."

"Rope isn't going to reach," Thalion said. He saw something at the edge of the cliff and pointed. It looked like the beginning of an ancient staircase. "There." Without hesitating, he approached it.

The staircase had to have been carved thousands of years ago, still standing largely because of its isolation from the water. Still, parts were beginning to crack and crumble. It would be a perilous journey, the yawning abyss stretching out to one side. There were spiderweb patterns graven into the cliff face that they could probably cling to, but it would be a long time. Alassëa made a small noise of terror. "Is this really how I'm going to die?" she whispered.

Nek slapped her on the lower back. "You'll be fine," the deep gnome said cheerfully. He had grumbled and groaned about coming, but he seemed in high spirits now that they were out in the Wilds. The svirfneblin attributed it to a lack of drow. "You'll prance under the sun again. Now, let's get going. There might be other valuables in this tomb thingy too."

"It's a shrine," Thalion said irritably as he started down the steps carefully. "You don't loot shrines."

"Maybe elves don't," Nek said. "Down here, it's anything goes."

"Really?" Malagos said challengingly. "You would steal from a temple of Lloth?"

Nek hesitated for a moment before following Thalion down the steps. "Alright, maybe not the Spider Bitch," the svirfneblin ranger said as he walked confidently, resting his crossbow against his shoulder. He was small enough that he had plenty of room on these steps. However, Malagos and Vargan particularly had to cling to the wall. Alassëa followed Nek, with the two big fighters bringing up the rear.

They climbed downward for hours, until the sight of the top had long vanished and the bottom remained shrouded in primordial darkness. Alassëa whispered prayers to Eilistraee all the way down, grating on Nek. The others just hoped she was praying for them too. Well, perhaps not Vargan. The giant orc was hard to read. Slowly and slowly, the bottom started to appear. The stone below was smooth and glassy like obsidian or black ice, with what looked like a small temple caught in it like an insect in amber. The only opening was a narrow doorway half-covered in stone. All of them sighed in relief when they reached the last stair. Alassëa glanced upwards, but all she could see was shadow. "Going up is going to be fun," she muttered.

Malagos patted her on the shoulder comfortingly. "One step at a time," the half-drow said gently.

She flashed him a quick smile before focusing on the door that Thalion and Nek were already scrutinizing. "Well?"

"The writing, it's not Elvish and not Drow," Thalion said cautiously. "It's Celestial. I think this really is as old as Callimar said."

"Let's go already," Nek said impatiently, giving Thalion a push towards the door.

"What if it's trapped?" Alassëa said. Her hands were a little shaky still, though it was hard to say whether that was from the climb or the idea of venturing into the shrine.

"We'll figure it out as we go," the svirfneblin said. "Thalion's going first anyway, so we'll have time to react."

Thalion glared at the deep gnome, but didn't argue. The little bastard was lucky he was so skilled, otherwise the former avenger would have punched him in the mouth. Instead of saying so, the surface elf drew his sword and squeezed through the doorway. The stone was cold and unyielding, but he was able to fit without much difficulty. What he found was a grand entrance that was much, much larger on the inside than it was on the outside. The hall was a massive thing with corners lost in shadows. On either side, the vaulted arches that supported the roof—some of them collapsed in a way that buried sections—transformed into statues of seven-winged angels, each one armed with stone shields and swords. They, like the rest of the interior, were formed of white marble. Oddly, the angels had pointed ears and angled faces, like elves. Corellon Larethian's symbol was melded into the floor in silver, the graceful crescent moon immediately recognizable. "Our ancestors walked here," Alassëa marveled, looking up at the ceiling. The floor was canted at an angle that lead deeper into the earth.

Malagos and Vargan both looked uncomfortable. Drow and orcs alike had problems with Corellon—their half drow was getting the worst of both worlds. Nek seemed ambivalent, though he was peering around for danger or reward. "I think the stairs were traps enough for these people."

Thalion looked down on reflex only to see scuff marks on the stone. "Something else is down here," he said carefully as he started to walk forward. "I don't think we're alone."

The halls leading off from this main chamber were equally giant and gave no indication of importance, so Thalion just picked the central one that lead deeper into the temple. Alassëa walked close behind him, though her attention was focused on their surroundings. They walked between the statues of the elven pantheon until they came to an arch with two massive statues, one on either side with joined hands. One was easily identifiable as Corellon, while the other was a female. Her face and the inscription at the base of the statue had been obliterated, not by the gentle hands of age, but by the hammers of the enraged. There were words carved sloppily into her statue, this close enough to Elvish that Alassëa could piece it together. "May your name be forgotten, may your face be unseen, may your works lie in ruins..." she read aloud. "It's hard to make out more than that. I'd be willing to bet that this is...was...Lloth before her fall from heaven. If the myths are true and she was something other than a crazed, evil goddess, anyway. This destruction must have happened thousands of years after it was originally made if the language is any indication.

Thalion stepped through the arch and took a deep breath. There, before them in the darkness, was a massive hoard of treasure. Gemstones glittered along with coins, forming mountainous piles where statues and jewel-encrusted weapons poked out among the sheer hills of precious metal and stone. "Dragon," he whispered, sword almost falling out of his hands.

The hiss came from behind them rather than among the treasure. The group shot forward into the room and then spun around. There, emerging from the shadow with a sinister grace, was a deep dragon. It was instantly recognizable by its smoothly plated head and almost slender, agile form. Its claws clicked against the stone. The dragon was not large enough to be an overly powerful wyrm, but it was easily a match for them even with the addition of Malagos and Vargan. "What is this?" the creature said in Undercommon. "So rare, to have meals come to me. I wonder, why are the morsels here?"

It prowled closer, looking at them expectantly with frighteningly intelligent eyes. Only Vargan seemed completely unfazed. "We want the statue of Lloth," he growled out, gripping his black sword more tightly.

"The prize of my collection?" the deep dragon said. It seemed to glide over to the heaps of treasure and curled around one pile. Thalion caught a glimpse of it, a smooth statuette carved out of a single piece of black opal. It was probably worth hundreds of thousands of gold pieces just for the material alone. "No. But I am curious. Elves with an orc and a half drow? Quite the circus."

Thalion gave the creature a polite bow. "Vanafidon. And you are?"

The dragon chuckled. "Manners, yes. I will speak to the mannered one. I am Mesanthelis," it said, flicking its powerful tail. "I have lived here in the depths for centuries, and yet you are the first to visit me. Following the trail of the scouts who never made it this far, I suppose?"

"Yes," Thalion said, struggling to figure out how they could get the statuette away from it. The only thing he could think of was to draw it away in combat and trust that the others would grab the small statue. Then they could make their getaway...hopefully. It was a long shot. He glanced at Malagos and Vargan, both of whom were gripping their weapons tightly. He could see that Alassëa had a spell readied and Nek's crossbow was loaded. It would be up to him to get the statuette. He gave the deep gnome a little nod.

Before anyone could act or speak, the party as well as the dragon, the svirfneblin fired his crossbow. The bolt hissed forward and, instead of shattering against its armored hide, struck Mesanthelis right in the left eye. The dragon let out a roar of pain and launched itself forward with a snarl. Thalion dove to the side and then started running for the statuette. Blinded by rage and the crossbow bolt, the deep dragon paid him no attention. It was focused vengefully on the deep gnome, who had stepped behind the cleric and two fighters. Vargan and Malagos lunged forward, striking with their blades, but both struggled to pierce the creature's formidable hide. It became worse when the dragon spit corrosive acid onto the group, eating away at the armor and flesh of the fighters. Thalion heard the cries of pain as he scrambled up the treasure heap. The statuette was about two feet high and was surprisingly light. It was Lloth as a woman rather than her half-spider form, lovingly formed without a single imperfection. He grabbed it and cursed.

How was he going to get to the other side of the dragon where his friends were?

The group could not endure the deep dragon's assault if they stood and fought. Alassëa was having trouble healing as fast as the creature could do damage. Nek fired his crossbow again and again, but most of the bolts skated off Mesanthelis's scales. "Run!" the deep gnome shouted.

Malagos spun around and hit Alassëa about midsection, neatly shouldering their priestess. He then took off at a full run, trusting that Vargan and Nek would follow.

"Thalion!" the priestess screamed, unable to actually do anything.

Mesanthelis seemed to realize that one of his prey was missing. The deep dragon whirled around to see no sign of Thalion. "I know you are here, elf," he growled, stalking forward onto the piles of treasure. "Come and fight me."

Thalion held his breath, hiding under the weight of the coins with his sword poised. Only one eye was exposed, but the dragon hadn't seen it. There would only be one chance to do this, to escape. He felt like he was going to pass out or die from lack of oxygen. Live for Khaless, he told himself as he tightened his grip on his sword. He wished the rogue was with him. She would have found a safe way out for all of them.

The deep dragon took another step forward, vulnerable throat directly above the hidden elf. Thalion forced his arms upward, the statue tucked against his chest. He drove the blade right into Mesanthelis's softer, less protected throat. The dragon made a choked, snarling yowl and started to thrash. He wasn't dead, but he was seriously wounded.

Thalion rolled down the hill of treasure with his arms wrapped around the statuette, leaving his sword buried in the dragon's throat. Mesanthelis was struggling to get ahold of the steel thorn in his throat and thrashing around. The wood elf did not make his escape unscathed. That powerful tail smashed into him and flung him across the room. He crashed into the wall just beside the archway, ribs cracking in a violent explosion of pain. Thalion heaved himself up immediately despite the agony and sprinted through the archway. It was a feat he would have never been able to do without an enraged dragon behind him. So intent was he in his running that he actually almost passed the group on their way out, largely because Alassëa was struggling to get free and find him.

"See? He's fine!" Nek snapped. The svirfneblin immediately turned and scurried away towards the entrance as fast as his stubby legs could carry him. Malagos, carrying Alassëa still, was right behind him. Thalion and Vargan brought up the rear, too panicked to even look over their shoulder for any sign of the dragon. They could hear him approaching in a thunderous flap of wings.

They shot through the small opening like bottle-corks out of champagne and found that their pursuit had vanished. An eerie, unnerving quiet settled on the area. It was dead silent except for their ragged breathing. "He'll have another entrance," Thalion groaned, holding his side. Malagos set their priestess down and then took the statue from Thalion so the elf could limp along without a burden stressing his injured body. "We have to hurry."

"He'll just knock us off the stairs," Nek said. "We need either a distraction or a way to make sure he can't fly."

"We go for the wings?" Vargan asked, hefting his sword.

"Maybe if we had a ballista, but I don't carry those in my pockets anymore. They kept getting in the way of my keys," the svirfneblin snarled with surprising ferocity for his size, particularly considering he was addressing a behemoth of an orc. He started going for the stairs. "Alassëa, can you make light? Enough to burn the hell out of a dragon's eyes?"

The priestess smiled in relief that they had a plan. "I can do that," she said.

The beating of wings was fast approaching and they heard Mesanthelis's roar long before they saw him. They had just reached the foot of the stairs when the great beast snarled and let loose with a blast of acid that spattered across all of them. Thalion cried out just like the others when he felt it eat into his back. All five of them closed their eyes tightly and then Alassëa let off her spell. It was a flash of light brighter even than daylight. Thalion could almost see it through his eyelids. There was a shriek of pain from the dragon, followed by the tremendous crash of a flying creature striking a wall of the great rift and crashing into the deepest reaches of the darkness.

They ran up the steps, no matter the length of time to traverse it or the steepness of their path. The group reached the heights again despite many near-falls and the unceasing howling of the dragon below. They did not stop running until there were many twists and turns of tunnels between them and Mesanthelis. Then Thalion collapsed to the ground onto his good side, sobbing for breath. Alassëa crashed to her knees beside him, immediately casting a healing spell. "We're alright," she panted out even as she knitted his ribs back together and healed the damage from the acid. "We just have to keep moving."

Malagos and Vargan weren't looking great either. They were both battered from the dragon's initial assault and burned the worst by the acid. Nek, however, was just tired. His own armor, made of deep dragon's hide, had kept him safe from the creature's breath weapon. Alassëa did her best, but she had to use up all of her spells to heal the group of their worst injuries. Exhausted, bruised, and scratched, they forced themselves to move on.

"All this for a statue," Nek muttered. "Why couldn't you just pay off the damn debt?"

"With what money?" Thalion growled. "You shouldn't have been gambling, you horrible little creature. Hell, we pay you. You should be paying off your own damn debt."

"Boys, later," Alassëa said. She was almost sagging against Malagos. "We have a week and a half back to Erelhei-Cinlu. Plenty of time to argue."

The passages they were moving through were too small for a deep dragon to possibly pass through, thankfully, so after a few hours they could collapse. There was no setting up camp, as they'd run past their initial campsite without stopping to grab supplies. All five of them were asleep in seconds, watches utterly forgotten. And by some stroke of luck or divine providence, they woke up as free as when they had fallen asleep. Normally slavers might have pounced on their situation. Then again, even a chained Vargan probably would have been more to handle than any slaver was prepared to.

When morning—or what passed for it in the Underdark—came, it was announced by the pained groans of the group in their now-tattered armor and clothes. Muscles overworked had settled into rigid agony. Alassëa probably had the worst of it, not used to physical exertion the way the melee fighters were. "We need food and water or we're going to die," Nek said as he picked up his gear. "The Pitchy Flow's source isn't far from here. We'll go there. I can get us back to the city no problem."

It was times like this when Alassëa was glad they had the svirfneblin, despite all of his flaws. "Right behind you," she said, glancing at Thalion. He had wrapped the statue up in what was left of his green cloak. The former avenger gave her a nod made stiff by the limited range of motion in his neck from tight muscles.

It was an agonizing trek back.


	4. Departure

"This is objectively a terrible idea," Ghaundar said, watching Khaless pack. The drowess was leaving most of her belongings in Erelhei-Cinlu, as it would always be home as far as she was concerned. Currently, she was filling her quiver with arrows and banding the others together with leather ties to keep them together in bundles. "There are all kinds of dangers out in the Wilds. Can you really expect to fight off monsters with a baby in one arm? You know how a bow works, right?"

Khaless laughed despite herself and heard a complementary giggle from the baby. "There are plenty of safe places out in the Wilds too, wilderness where no one goes." She knew that better than anyone after all her wandering. Zesanna's work had her frequenting the Wilds as often as the city, spying on trade routes or waylaying certain people where the bodies would never be found. Killing someone in Erelhei-Cinlu generally drew more attention than doing so out in the wilderness where any number of beasts roamed. She had escaped the attention of most creatures simply by moving unheard and unseen. There were very few times where she needed to actually strike at one.

"They don't go there for a reason, Khal!" he said, exasperated. Ghaundar hated the wilds. He considered himself too old for campaigning or being on the road. He much preferred life as a city thug after wandering or soldiering for as long as they had. His freedom from House Baenre should have made him free of that. Besides, he was concerned for his friend and himself. What would happen to him if she died?

She turned and put her hands on her hips. "The city is a death-trap for now. If we give it a while to cool down, we have a chance. Rauva is looking now. That said, she's like Thandysha. Her attention will shift in time, provided she isn't reminded. It will probably just take a few years."

Ghaundar sighed. "I don't see why you won't just find another city."

"If I do, it won't be a drow one," Khaless said with a little shrug. "Too dangerous for me. Vhondryl's safe—safer—outside of Erelhei-Cinlu, I'm not."

The grizzled veteran shook his head. "You know, it might be worth it just to worship Lloth for the sake of safety. Pay her lip service."

"I do," the rogue pointed out. Khaless curled a lock of her white hair around one finger thoughtfully. She was growing more and more comfortable with her role as Vhondryl's foster mother. "But that doesn't matter. No one is free from scrutiny, certainly not a houseless renegade running from the shadows with a child. That kind of thing draws attention. I want something safer for her."

Ghaundar studied her for a long moment. It was strange to see any female drow put someone else above herself, even though Khaless had done it for him and he knew it. Why else would she put herself at the mercy of a noble? "You'll have to run it by Zesanna. She may not like it if she can't check on your progress with Vhondryl herself. It means she would have to trust you, not just rely on the fact that you're under her thumb."

"I should go do that now," Khaless said. "I imagine she'll be in her quarters at House Xaniqos's villa."

"You could say hello to Vorn too," Ghaundar said. The comment earned a frown from his friend.

"Funny," she said dryly. Then she grew more serious, almost somber. "Will you be alright holding down the fort? I know you'll be stuck doing Zesanna's work without me, though I imagine she'll assign different types of missions."

Ghaundar shrugged. "I'd be lying if I said I wasn't upset that I can't come with you, but I know this is the only way," he said. He was going to miss her, he realized. "I have no problem being a thug, though. Zesanna's not the worst priestess to work for. For one, she doesn't want to drag me into bed."

Khaless cracked a smile. "She is a woman of discriminating taste."

He slapped a hand over his heart. "You wound me!" he said before breaking out into laughter that broke the atmosphere of gravity. It made him forget for a few seconds exactly what kind of future was about to come to pass.

"Watch her for me," Khaless said after a moment's pause. "I need to go find Zesanna." She smoothed out Vhondryl's downy white hair, then headed for the door.

It was never difficult for Khaless to gain entry to House Xaniqos, as her mistress had ensured that she possessed a key to the servants' entrance. She was also out of her armor at the moment, dressed accordingly for the part she was now playing. She still kept plenty of blades on her, but they were smaller and easier to conceal. The rogue dropped her gaze submissively and scurried like an anxious servant. Nobles and matriarchs alike paid no attention to her. Zesanna was noticeably absent downstairs, probably still recovering from her wound. She caught sight of Vorn, who didn't even see her. He was so used to an armored Khaless with a certain bearing that he didn't even register. It was funny how much posture and dress could do even without changing the face at all.

She knocked softly and then slipped through the unlocked doors to Zesanna's opulent chambers. The red and gold themes of color pervaded the place, broken up by furniture made of dark surface wood. That particular decorative choice was more because the material was expensive than because Zesanna found it aesthetically pleasing—she actually preferred the native sorts of 'lumber', though they were more inexpensive. However, high priestess had a persona to maintain, even here in her own home. Nowhere was she out of the gaze of her mother and sisters completely.

"Ah, Khaless," Zesanna said from her bed. She sat up with only the faintest hint of a grimace. Drow rarely treated pain with medicine, though they would tend to wounds, and Zesanna was no exception to that rule. It was mostly a measure of pride. "Here to inquire after my good health? I'm certain you wouldn't want me to pass in the near future."

"May you have a long and healthy life," Khaless agreed. She wasn't keen on losing her primary employer, even if she did have others lined up. Zesanna's work was always challenging in the best of ways and offered the greatest protection. "I wanted your permission for something, however. It involves your latest assignment."

Zesanna raised an eyebrow questioningly, but she nodded. "Make your request, then."

"I want to be away from Erelhei-Cinlu for a few years," Khaless said. She stood with her eyes lowered respectfully and her hands clasped behind her back. "I would be moving with what you entrusted to me. We're too close to Rauva right now. Until something else draws her attention, it won't be safe."

The cleric of Lloth took in a sudden, deep breath, but from her expression it was more pain than surprise. "Who knew being sliced open would hurt so badly?" Zesanna said with a little chuckle before focusing her gaze again on Khaless. "What gives you cause to believe Rauva is too close?"

"An agent of hers followed Vorn. He attempted to damage the item, and I accordingly killed him. He claimed that he hadn't reported back to Rauva with our whereabouts, but it's rather difficult to believe a spy," Khaless said. She was not being dishonest with Zesanna, though she was perhaps omitting her own personal desire to leave Erelhei-Cinlu for a while to clear her head. it was entirely possible that the woman would read that as well without it ever having been said. Despite it being contrary to popular knowledge, the fact was that Zesanna's perception was finely honed. Only a few people knew that, of course.

Khaless was always amazed by what lengths Zesanna would go to, just to keep her façade in place. She had never met a priestess who could suffer such insults and wounds to her pride without a direct retaliation. Zesanna could tolerate being the butt of however many jokes just to advance her designs wholly in secret. She hid in plain sight as the useless child, the worthless and lazy who survived by virtue of not being worth the effort or expense of having her killed. In reality, she was likely the most dangerous of Thandysha's daughters. Even if someone managed to kill her, they would be crushed by the inertia of the plans she had set in motion before her death. Her vengeance could easily reach beyond the grave. Even more terrifying was it in life. Zesanna didn't have to rule like her mother to play people like instruments, plucking delicately and precisely at their strings. Her reach was limited beyond Erelhei-Cinlu, but not insubstantial. Khaless was one of her agents and so she knew how tenacious Zesanna could be when she wanted something. To the daughter of House Xaniqos, distance was an obstacle that could certainly be overcome.

Zesanna appeared to be turning this problem over in her mind, her eyes fluttering closed for a long moment. Then, without opening them, she spoke, "It is possible that Rauva may know, yes, and that means we do not have much time. Perhaps she does not know, but you are correct. It is better to err on the side of caution. If she does know, the only reason she hasn't done anything is because her attention is in fact somewhat divided. There is a relic she's been hunting down to prove to the Matron that she should remain the favorite. If you are going to leave, I suggest you do it as quickly as possible, before the situation resolves itself."

"You approve, then?" Khaless said, tilting her head slightly in query. She was a little bit surprised that Zesanna was so quick to jump on board. The high priestess likely knew something that the rogue didn't, probably some other scheme that was moving in the House.

"I do," Zesanna said as she shifted in bed as if to relieve some of the pain. "She need not be presented to the Matron until a decade has passed and she is old enough to begin training for the clergy. In the meantime, you must make certain that she knows everything that she needs to know and then some. Teach her not only to survive, but to thrive."

"Understood, my lady," Khaless said, offering the cleric a bow. "Is there anything else?"

"No. Go," Zesanna said with the faintest of grimaces. Her shift had caused more pain than relief. "I would not have you linger and be caught. I have greater plans for you, darling."

Words like that would never cease to cause a chill to course its way down Khaless's spine. It was almost comforting to retreat out of the room and hurry down the hall. As she rounded the corner, so did someone else coming the opposite way: Vorn. Khaless narrowly danced out of his way, their eyes meeting for a brief moment before she was off down the hallway. He knew better than to call out after her, lest he give her away, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he really wanted to. She didn't particularly want to talk to him at the moment. There were too many mixed emotions conjured up by his presence and she had enough on her mind already.

The way back was surprisingly clear, though Khaless made certain to take a circuitous route and move in the shadows or through crowds just in case she was being followed. That would make it more difficult for anyone to find her. Finally, she slipped back home by way of the back door.

Ghaundar was waiting expectantly. "What'd she say?" he asked.

"That I should do it sooner than later," Khaless reported with a smile that looked relieved. "Rauva is somewhat distracted at the moment, so this is our chance. House Despana and House Tormtor control the guards on the wall and at the gates. They won't report us to Rauva if I play this right."

The grizzled veteran nodded. "I'll go with you as far as the gates."

Khaless gave him a bigger smile and then hurried up to her room. There were extra arrows packed away and her quiver was stuffed full as well. She'd put together provisions enough for herself and Vhondryl to be secure enough until they reached Dunspeirrin. The duergar city would be out of Rauva's reach at least for a time. The noble could always send more eyes and ears, but the duergar likely wouldn't take kindly to it. Granted, Khaless knew that she wouldn't be too popular either. She did have fairly good knowledge of the gray dwarves. It was something that might help.

She donned her armor, fastening the spider-shaped clasps with a practiced ease. The patterns of webs, embossed on her dark leather armor in smoked adamantine, were dull and yet beautiful in their own way. She gave off no glimmer and made no sound. Even the arrows were packed too tightly in her quiver to rattle around. The only thing she had with her that might draw attention to her was Vhondryl, who wriggled around in her crib. Khaless added to her outfit a green visitor's cloak and pulled the hood up to hide her face. It was better to make it look like she had just been a temporary visitor. She wrapped up her distinctive bow and then slung it across her back, making it just a bit less obvious. Her quiver and other arrows were packed away in her bag, which Ghaundar would be carrying for her to the edge of the city.

It was pure silence between her and her friend as they walked to main western gate through the streets that Khaless had come to love. The chatter and chaos of daily life went on around them. There were no curious glances in their direction or undue attention. They were probably being watched, but not by amateurs. There was always the chance that they had escaped detection, but Khaless rarely allowed herself to feel so secure. Paranoia was both habit and survival. Finally, they reached the behemoth gates and passed through them without much examination beyond the cursory normal search. Leaving Erelhei-Cinlu was easier than gaining access unless there was some kind of alert out. Fortunately, this was not the case. Khaless pulled off her visitor's cloak once they were on the other side and handed it off to Ghaundar in exchange for her pack. Vhondryl was securely wrapped and tucked in his arms for the moment. Once she'd shouldered her gear, he handed the baby over. The infant was awake and wiggling her fingers curiously, but not crying. Now that she had Khaless nearby, she seemed much calmer.

The two drow studied each other quietly. Neither one was good at saying goodbye. Few drow were. Parting was just accepted without comment beyond the occasional 'I hope he doesn't come back' or 'I hope she gets what's coming to her'.

"It won't be the same without you around," Ghaundar said finally.

"I'll be back before you know it," Khaless said, knowing it was a lie. Ten years was less to drow than the short lived races, but it was still a significant amount of time. "We're still partners."

"Yeah," Ghaundar said. He gave her a little grin, but his heart wasn't really in it. "Try not to get killed."

Khaless stepped in and gave him a one-armed hug since she was still holding Vhondryl. "Take care of yourself, Ghaundar," she murmured. "I won't forget you, whatever happens."

He smiled faintly and sadly. "Same to you, Khal." He gave her a little squeeze and then let her go. The rogue vanished into the mushroom forest without a sound and he turned back to the gate to make his way home. It stung more than he had thought it would. She had been gone only a minute and already he found himself missing his friend.

* * *

Thalion let the group into the small room that Callimar was using as his little meeting-place. Vargan had peeled off from them downstairs to rejoin his bully boys. They were all sore and looked the part of dragon-fighters, complete with damaged armor. They did have new green visitors' cloaks, though, and Thalion had the statue cradled in his arms. It was still wrapped in the remains of the last one. The only reason they'd been able to get back into the city was Callimar's writ. They didn't have the coin to pay a tax like the one exacted by the guards and that probably would have meant a beating before being thrown out into the Wilds. There was the merchant in leather pants and an emerald green shirt, this time sitting much more conservatively. He didn't have the same air of confidence as he had the first time and instead seemed almost anxious. There was also a woman sitting with him in whitish-silver robes of spun spider-silk that had the patterns of webs woven in with crimson thread.

She had softer features, like a surface elf, but the newcomer was definitely drow. Her ebony skin was completely unmarred from what they could see and her ivory hair had a broad streak of red in it. She also wore both a House sigil for Xaniqos and a signet ring with the symbol, carved of ruby, embedded in the gold band. Alassëa could immediately sense both the woman's personal magic and the powerful enchantments to some of her accessories. Not their nature, but their presence. As for the woman's own magic, it was unmistakably divine. It didn't take an expert to guess the reality of their situation. They had just walked into a confined room with a priestess of Lloth. Alassëa froze, her hand tightening on Thalion's sleeve. Malagos had a similiar deer-in-the-sudden-lights expression. "Callimar, leave us," the woman said with a pleasant smile.

"Of course, my lady," he said as he from his seat. He offered her a bow and then moved past the group, stepping out of the room.

An absolute silence descended on the room. All Thalion could think was that there were more of them than there were of her, but that fact didn't seem as helpful as it might have if they were in, say, Silverymoon. One scream would give everyone in the room except for the priestess deaths as long as the average human lifespan. Before he could say anything, the female drow looked more seriously at them. "I see you brought my family's statue. My mother will be very pleased," she said, motioning for Thalion to bring it over. She took it from him reverently and placed it on the table. "Do any of you know who I am?"

The group exchanged looks, then shook their heads.

She laughed. "I'm not sure whether to be insulted or amused. I think I'll settle on amused," she said with a gleam in her eye. "You have done me a favor, whether knowingly or not, and Rauva Xaniqos does not forget her debts. Even to elves." She sounded fairly neutral about their race as opposed to reacting with frothing hatred. "Before we touch on what I can do for you, however, why don't you tell me what brings you here?"

"They're one and the same," Alassëa said with more boldness than she herself had expected. "We're looking for a drow named Khaless Dryaalis."

Rauva shook her head. "I only know of one Khaless, and we have never had the pleasure of being introduced despite my efforts. She is a versatile agent contracted by those who have the clout to obtain her services. Word is that she ultimately answers to one particular owner, but many have traded favors with her over the past few years. Khaless D'veldrin. A nickname that stuck. No family, no House. So why are surface elves looking for an assassin?"

"Assassin?" Thalion said, surprised despite himself. He hadn't thought Khaless would be the type. He knew she was more than capable of killing, but he'd never imagined her doing it for coin. Then again, survival.

"Assassin, thief, spy. An agent, as I initially said," Rauva said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "I assume from your surprise that this wasn't her occupation when you knew her. Or, more likely, it was and you weren't aware of that."

"We crossed paths with her years ago," the wood elf explained, hunting for an excuse that a drow priestess would likely buy. "We just want to find her again. Payback."

"Ah," Rauva said with a faint smile. "Unfortunately, Khaless D'veldrin has pulled one of her famous disappearing acts. No one seems to know where she's gone or why. She has a partner, but I haven't been able to find him to ask. Perhaps you will have more luck than I am having."

"You want to find her too?" Alassëa said curiously.

Rauva nodded slowly, her whole posture becoming more guarded. "It is a matter of...faith. Khaless offered an answer to my...doubts. You elves would not understand. Life on the surface is soft and easy. You do not need to constantly be looking over your shoulder, jumping at shadows."

The answer sounded so familiar to Thalion that he immediately jumped to the same conclusion as Alassëa had. However, it made him hesitate. Would a cleric of Lloth really turn to Eilistraee? Could she doubt so much that she replaced the Demon Queen of Spiders with another goddess? Or was she merely struggling to find her way still? "Is there anything we can do to help?" he offered even though saying it made him uncomfortable. He wasn't supposed to help drow. He was supposed to cut them to ribbons.

"I don't know," Rauva said pensively. "I think so. I'll be in touch. I might need things done. I'm trying to protect myself. I have three younger sisters, two of which are actually dangerous and one idiot: Zesanna, Ahlysaaria, and Jhanniss. All three want me dead. If you could find Khaless, she might help me. If not, well, I would be happy to take your assistance."

"Where should we start looking, my lady?" Malagos said, his eyes respectfully lowered.

Thalion struggled with that custom as well, but the former avenger could manage to be just a little bit below hers. Enough to show respect without weakness, as far as he was concerned. He was very aware that Rauva was watching him closely, perhaps because she pegged him for the most dangerous creature in the room.

Rauva shrugged. "As I said, he has a partner. I don't know who she usually works for, but it's quite likely they were in the Ghetto of Outcasts. My family controls that district. It should be quite easy for you to travel in—the residents don't particularly care about skin tone, even the drow. They're either too busy trying to stay alive or too far gone to care. A good place to start would be at the Lady's. It's a brothel down in the district. It is run by a succubus, though, so be careful. If you need to contact me, do so through Callimar. He has an office here in the Ghetto of Foreigners as well as a room here. I have to go. I've been away too long. Until next time. Oh, and please tell me what you learn."

Rauva left them quickly, stopping only a moment to gather her things. When she left, the little group looked at each other. "I think we just found an ally," Malagos said.

"We found a trap," Nek said grimly as he ran a hand over his shaved head. "No drow is that friendly without a reason."

"You always see the worst in people," Alassëa said. "There are good drow. Not many, but some. Besides, if Malagos says she's a friend—"

"Ally," the half-drow corrected. "She won't trust us enough to put anything on the line for us, not yet. Someday, we might be. But in the meantime, we simply share a common goal: find your drow."

The svirfneblin glared at Malagos. "Out of everyone here, you should know better," he said accusingly. "She's a gods-damned spider spinning a web all around us—" He stopped speaking abruptly when Callimar walked in.

"Relax, Stonestrider, your debt is forgiven," Callimar said with a chuckle. "Now, if your business is done here, perhaps you should go?"

Thalion and Malagos exchanged a look before nodding. "No coin," the half-drow grumbled once they had left Callimar's room.

"But we're alive," Thalion said. "And Nek's debts are forgiven. Now, Khaless has a partner. I think I might know who it is. She used to talk about a male drow named Ghaundar. I think he's the closest thing to a friend she had. I doubt he's as good at hiding as she is."

"Why don't we go down to the Lady's and find out?" Malagos said. He searched his belt pouches. "I've got enough for a few drinks and a bribe or two, provided the price isn't too steep. Information can be a very valuable commodity."

"I will never understand the drow," Alassëa muttered.

The unsettling part for Thalion was that he was beginning to.

They made their way through the crowded streets to the Ghetto of Outcasts, and the buildings themselves began to change the closer they got. Once, this had clearly been a very nice part of the city. Now it was aged and crumbling. Some of its arches collapsed into the streets and windows shattered only to be left unrepaired. Thin drow lingered on front steps, watching them with suspicious and angry eyes...but that seemed no different than the look that they turned on other people not from their area. These were the faces of the failures of the drow world. Fallen houses and criminals, thugs and brutes. There were a few half-breeds on the street, which was more than they had seen in other parts of the city. "Khal chose to live here," Alassëa said quietly. "She must have needed a place to hide badly."

"Or she was as low on coin as we are," Malagos said thoughtfully.

Thalion didn't even want to picture a destitute Khaless. She had skill, she had drive, she had intelligence, and she was a drow. She would have been able to make it if anyone could. The idea of her being trapped in this horrible place was nightmare-worthy. Parts of Erelhei-Cinlu were beautiful and he could see the dark, alluring nature of the drow. This was just crumbling glory and detritus of both the sentient and non-sentient varieties.

They nervously found their way to the Lady's with its red lights, everyone looking over their shoulder as if to find the nearest street thug. They were tailed by some figures in rough, rusting armor with sharp and jagged knives for part of the way. The figures, half-hidden in shadow, didn't move too close. Instead, they followed like jackals trailing a wounded animal. Alassëa sighed in relief once they were inside, though it was shortlived. The sight of an approaching demon tended to do that.

Caizel sized up her newest guests with a smile, her eyes a blank white from corner to corner. Right now, she was in her true form—a voluptuous brunette woman with a smile that was the downfall of angels, bat-wings furled for the moment, and claws carefully filed to maintain their smoothness even as they reached lethal points. She looked like she had just thrown a dress on and almost missed, more bare skin than fabric showing across her whole body. Her tail swished with a feline interest. "Oh, I can feel the good practically pouring off you," she said, addressing the elves. Nek and Malagos were more what she was used to, though that made them no less interesting. "Poor things, down here in the dark."

Thalion stiffened up and grabbed Alassëa by her upper arm. "I would say thank you for your concern, but I could do without it," he said shortly, avoiding the glance of those blank white and yet hypnotic eyes. "We're looking for Ghaundar."

Caizel laughed. "That isn't how we do business in Erelhei-Cinlu, handsome," she purred, stepping well into Thalion's personal space. Before he could resist, she brushed her fingertips down his armored chest. His mouth went dry in response. "Have a seat. Have a drink. Maybe enjoy the hospitality."

"Thalion!" Alassëa hissed, jerking free of his hold.

"I'm fine," he said even though his eyes were lingering on Caizel's. It seemed to please the succubus inordinately. The former avenger's head felt like it was swimming in a sea of cotton.

"Don't be upset, pretty thing, we have plenty of entertainment for you too," Caizel said, batting her eyelashes at Alassëa. The cleric of Eilistraee felt a little bit of fog descend on her thoughts, but she could think reasonably well through it.

Malagos scowled. Caizel hadn't tried her charms on the half-drow, mostly because she was preoccupied by the elves. He didn't like the way the creature was looking at his companions, particularly Alassëa. It was strange to be jealous of a succubus, but that was life in the Underdark. "Table," he grunted out, piloting both elves past Caizel with a hand on each of their shoulders. It jerked them out of the haze. "You can talk to the demon there, with space between you."

Nek sauntered after them, giving Caizel a little salute. He wasn't immune to her charms by a long shot, but he knew she was more focused on the elves and so he felt reasonably safe for the moment. All four of them took a seat on cushions arranged at a low, round table. Caizel took up her perch beside Thalion, much to Alassëa's displeasure. "Remember Khaless?" she whispered to the wood elf.

"I remember," he said.

Caizel grinned when she overheard that. "This Khaless?" she said, assuming the female drow's exact appearance. She nailed the rogue perfectly, though she was still wearing the barely-there red spider-silk rather than the drowess's omnipresent armor. Alassëa and Thalion both took in sharp breaths, surprised. The Khaless they were looking at had barely changed from her days on the surface. Even her voice was a perfect mimicry of the renegade's.

Thalion couldn't help his eyes wandering. He convinced himself he was just looking for a place where the succubus had made a mistake, but his charm-impaired brain was also hit by the desperate loneliness that he felt whenever he was reminded that she was so far gone. He swallowed when his eyes reached a bare upper thigh. Alassëa couldn't kick him because she was seated cross-legged, so she settled for elbowing him sharply in the ribs. "Thalion, that's a demon."

He cleared his throat and looked up into ruby eyes that were so perfectly a match of his lover's. "We're looking for Ghaundar, Khaless's partner." It was increasingly hard to focus as his brain started to remind him of how his drow's touch had felt against his skin, how her lips touched his.

"Really?" Caizel said, leaning forward to rest her chin on her hand with her elbows on the table. It offered a marvelous view of cleavage. "If I didn't know better, handsome, I would say you were looking for Khaless." The voice was probably even more distracting. He immediately thought of soft, breathless sound and words whispered in his ear as they moved together. Logically, he knew it was the succubus's doing, but that part of his mind was fast being overwhelmed.

"We are," Alassëa said, cutting in. She could tell they were losing Thalion. Caizel had unearthed his weakness with a surprising speed. The demon was very good at what she did. "Do you know where she went?"

"So many questions. I'll answer them for my handsome man here and no one else. You three go have a good time. We'll stay and chat," Caizel said, waving the others—including Alassëa—away. "Wait here long enough, and Ghaundar will turn up on his own. His favorite is Drada. Go talk to her."

Malagos stood up and pulled Alassëa away from the table firmly but gently. "You can keep an eye on him from a distance," he whispered in her ear. "Making Caizel angry isn't going to help us."

"I'm not leaving him with that bitch!" Alassëa said with surprising vehemence, though she wasn't strong enough to successfully pull out of Malagos's grip. He and Nek towed her away.

"Let's just find this Drada woman," Nek said. "Thalion'll be fine. He survived a dragon. Demon? No problem."

Back at the table, Caizel moved right into Thalion's lap and linked her arms around his neck. Her fingernails just brushed over the back of his neck. "Why don't you tell me all about it, Thalion?" she said teasingly, capturing Khaless's accented way of saying his name. She'd spoken to the drowess enough times to grasp her mode of speech quite well. Succubi had ears for this sort of thing.

He was trying hard to focus, he really was, but it just wasn't working. All he could think about was how good it felt to be touched again. "We need to talk to Ghaundar. We know y—Khaless has gone missing," he said.

"And what if I told you where he is when he's not here? Because it'll be a long while before he comes our way again," Caizel said. "Information is all about trades in Erelhei-Cinlu. I'll give you that if you give me something."

Thalion knew it was a bad idea to blindly agree, even in his current state. "What do you want?"

"Oh, something small. Just a kiss," she said softly. She looked up at him with those deep ruby eyes before saying in Khaless's voice, "You're so lonely, Thalion. You know you want me. And I need you."

The wood elf's resolve crumbled. He kissed her and the world suddenly became hazy and beautiful as some of the vitality drained out of his body. The only thing in it was Caizel—or as he saw her, Khaless. Suddenly, a kiss wasn't enough. He wanted more and he didn't care that they were in public. It had been decades. "Melda, amin mela lle," he whispered against her lips.

He was snapped out of it by a blow to the side of the head that forcibly broke him apart from Caizel and rang his bell. When the pain subsided a little and the fog cleared, he saw Malagos shaking out his hand. "Shoulda used a chair," the half drow grumbled. Then the big warrior scowled over at Caizel. "Show your real form before I punch you too, lady."

"Such barbarism." She clucked her tongue. "Well, it was fun while it lasted." She blew a kiss at Thalion and then shifted back to her demonic visage.

The wood elf had narrowly avoided disaster and he knew it. He owed Malagos and Alassëa a great deal. They'd saved him and also his principles. Even if it was going to bruise, he was grateful. He clambered to his feet and wiped away a little bit of blood from the new cut on his temple.

"Thank you, Malagos," Alassëa said quietly. She glared at Caizel. "Alright, you got your kiss. Where's Khaless?"

"Not here," Caizel said with a winning smile. Alassëa opened her mouth to let loose with curses, but she was cut off by the demon waving at the door. "Ghaundar, there are some lovely people here to talk to you!"

The four turned around to see a grizzled drow standing just inside the door, one hand on his sword. His jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed at the sight of elves. He had lost something very special to elves once. He was less than grateful to them for it. Alassëa approached him cautiously as everyone else in the bordello's downstairs found something else to pay attention to. The outcasts in the Ghetto tended to keep themselves to themselves. "Are you Ghaundar?" she said. "We need to ask you about Khaless."

"The priestess," Ghaundar guessed, hand tightening on his sword. He had just come from beyond the gate and his farewell. He wasn't in the mood to play twenty questions. "If you know what's good for you, faerie, you will leave me well alone."

"Can we talk somewhere else?" Thalion said, eyeing the sword cautiously. He didn't want to be cut open by this drow. "Like outside?"

Ghaundar turned on his heel and stalked outside. The fewer people who saw him talking to these vermin, the better. He had learned from Khal to appreciate elven art, but he wasn't about to stop hating the people who made it. The four trailed after him, with Nek and Malagos keeping a respectful distance. They didn't need to overhear the conversation. "I can't—won't—help you," Ghaundar snapped. "I don't know what you think she can help you with, but she has problems enough of her own."

"I love her," Thalion said bluntly.

The drow's eyes widened. Of all the things he had been expecting the male elf to say, that was not among them. After all, for years... "You are Thalion Vanafidon?" Ghaundar demanded, drawing his sword. Before Thalion could retaliate, the veteran had him pinned against the door by his throat. The elf was acutely aware of the tip of the sword against his stomach despite the fact that he was wearing armor. "You were dead!"

"Alassëa here managed to save me, but by then Khaless was gone," Thalion said.

"You broke her heart," Ghaundar growled as he began to tighten his grip. "I should gut you right now." He knew it wouldn't make Khaless happy, but it would ease his own frustration after seeing her grieve and throw away futures for close to thirty years. She had turned down Vorn for this creature's memory alone.

Thalion wasn't certain if he should feel pained or relieved that she hadn't forgotten him. "I just want to see her. Where is she?"

"Gone," Ghaundar said, releasing his grip on Thalion. He lowered the sword, but didn't sheathe it. In answer, the others took their hands off their own respective weapons. "She took the baby and left the city."

"The what?" Alassëa blurted out.

Thalion froze. Maybe her heart wasn't so broken after all, he thought through the shock.

Ghaundar seemed to realize he had said something he wasn't supposed to. Now he had to explain away a child. He couldn't say she was Zesanna's child and lay the plan out that way. He would have to lie. If it caused pain in the future, so be it. He owed it to Khaless to keep her safe even from her own lover. "Her daughter," he said coolly. His eyes fixed on Thalion's hazel ones, glaring intently. "They left the city. They will be gone a while and then they will return. You can wait, but I'd suggest you go back to wherever it is you came from."

"We'll find her," Thalion said grimly. He had come this far. He was not leaving without being able to at least talk to her.

"You draw attention. If you follow her, she will draw attention. If she draws attention, they will die," Ghaundar ground out. "If you want to talk to her, you will wait just as I have to. It will not be a short wait."

Alassëa put a hand on Thalion's arm. "Fine then," she said quietly. "We wait."

The drow warrior looked them up and down, sneering just a little as he did so. Goddess, but did he hate what he saw. It baffled him what Khaless had ever seen in a faerie. Maybe he wasn't giving them a chance, but he was a drow. Why should he care if it was fair? The dislike seemed to be mutual now. Thalion's jaw clenched under the scrutiny and his hands tightened into fists. Ghaundar didn't say anything, but he was thinking a wide variety unkind things. As far as he was concerned, they had come down here with their grub-white skin and their holier-than-thou attitude for the sole purpose of ruining Khaless's already complicated but undeniably successful life.

"Khaless has a daughter?" Thalion said finally, his voice hesitant and almost pained. He wanted to know—but he also really didn't want to know—who with. His chest felt like it was caving in on itself in a crushing pain.

Ghaundar almost told him the truth, hearing that note of pain. He hated the elf, but he could imagine the agony. What if Vaene had had a child without him? "It's complicated," he said. They couldn't risk this falling apart. If one elf had to suffer so that Vhondryl could live, that was a small price to pay. "But yes."

Thalion had to look away when the thoughts finally reached his head, tears threatening but never falling. He had missed it. He had missed...her. Khaless's life had moved on without him. If she was brokenhearted, what was he? "Where can we meet you to talk later, Ghaundar?" Thalion said in a painfully clear voice. "The Lady's is not a good place."

"There is a small, crumbling tower to the north of here down the crooked side street that runs diagonally across the main way," Ghaundar said. "That is where I make my home. Find me there." He turned and stalked away, leaving the four of them there in a sort of stunned silence.

There was a long, drawn out pause and then finally, Nek said, "So, I'm guessing Thalion here has a history of the romantic kind with this drow?"

Alassëa shot the gnome a dirty look.

Malagos cleared his throat at that response and then caught Thalion by the shoulder. "Let's get you home, Thalion," he said sympathetically, steering the elf back towards the Ghetto of Foreigners. It was a very, very quiet walk. Thalion didn't make a sound or look at any of them. He just walked like an automaton with his gaze fixed in front of him. Once they reached the house, the wood elf went up to his room and they heard the door close.

"That did not go well," Malagos said, breaking the awkwardness that settled on their heads after Thalion went upstairs. "He will need time to adjust to this."

"I can't picture Khal as a mother," Alassëa admitted as she sat down at the table. "And for Ghaundar to just blurt it out like that...it wasn't a good way to find out."

"Is there a good way to find out?" Nek countered. He sighed. "Well, in a way, he's lucky she's a drow. They don't care much for fathers, so she's probably not even still in touch with him. Unless you think Ghaundar...?"

"According to Thalion, Khaless spoke of Ghaundar with affection but not love," the elven priestess said. She felt an overwhelming urge to worry at her cuticles, but she resisted it. They would bleed and hurt if she did.

"She wouldn't be the first woman with a broken heart to sleep with a friend," Malagos said gently, putting his hand on Alassëa's shoulder to comfort her. She was so worried for Thalion that she looked like she might make herself sick.

"Broken-hearted? A drow?" Nek said. He shook his head. "They're not like you lot, princess. A drow will say 'I love you' and then plunge in the dagger. If they'll do that, fucking someone else is pretty minor."

"Khaless was different. I wouldn't expect you to understand," Alassëa said with an uncharacteristic snap.

Nek threw his hands up. "Fine, if you can't handle the truth, I'm going to the pub. Malagos, want to come with and find some work?" the ranger said.

"I'll stay here," Malagos said.

"Suit yourself," Nek grumbled, stomping out of the house. The door slammed shut behind him and left the half-drow basically alone with the object of his hidden affections.

Malagos sat down in the chair next to Alassëa. "What are you thinking?" he asked, rubbing circles on her back. She wasn't complaining, but from what he had seen, elves were much more casual with their touch than drow. They would just reassure each other without the calculated intent to gain something that drow always used. Malagos was only half, but he supposed he was no exception. He did want her to like him, after all.

"That we wasted years of our lives chasing someone who didn't want to be found," Alassëa said quietly. "But then I think of Erelhei-Cinlu and how badly it needs someone to just care. Maybe we are here for a reason, just not the one we think. And if we at some point get to talk to Khaless, well, then we go from there."

Upstairs, Thalion took in a deep breath, then hid his face in his hands. He couldn't believe it. It didn't seem real. He needed to hear it from Khaless herself. He needed to touch her, hold her, kiss her. Caizel had revealed how strong his desire was, but...maybe it was time to move on himself.


	5. Almost Lust

Khaless knew when she was being followed.

It had been exactly one month since she left Erelhei-Cinlu, a month of winding through creature-infested tunnels and crossing perilous ravines made all the more difficult by having to protect an infant as well. She had avoided combat many times by simply clinging to the shadows and moving without a whisper of sound past derro bands and duergar slavers. She had arrived cautiously at Dunspeirrin. The duergar city was everything she had come to expect from them: colorless and grim, given character separate from the rock it was built into only by the waste of fires from the great forges that roared below. The whole place was caked in soot and the air reeked of molten metal. It was warmer than she found comfortable after living in the cold tunnels for a month. The harsh angles and blocky buildings were so different from the graceful spires and arches of her home.

She hadn't been able to shake the feeling that someone was after her. She wasn't certain that Rauva knew, but someone had followed her. She knew it. It was more of a feeling than any definitive thing she could point to, a little twist of anxiety in her stomach. Here in Dunspeirrin, she had a potential chance to lose them without having to confront them. She had thought about laying an ambush in the tunnels, but it was too risky with Vhondryl.

Now, she had a room at an inn called the Embers, situated in a crevice between two great pillars of stone rising to the cavern roof. It was dirty, but it was a roof and a meal. She moved with her hood up, but her armor took away any doubt as to what she was. They whispered it venomously when they thought she was wasn't listening: _drow_. The word was a curse to the duergar, but none of them acted on their hatred. They needed the coin that trade with Erelhei-Cinlu brought and they had no way of knowing if she was the messenger of some House or not. Situated comfortably in her room, she toyed with a dagger and tried to come up with an escape plan. Vhondryl was sleeping surprisingly peacefully. In the tunnels, Khaless had become accustomed to being awoken almost constantly by a crying baby. It seemed now that they were back in civilization, she felt safe enough to sleep without having to check if Khaless was there constantly.

A knock at the door almost made Khaless jump out of her skin. She sprang up and tightened her grip on the blade before going over to the door. She listened for a moment but heard no conversation, so she opened it. The face on the other side was not who she expected in the slightest, but she was fairly certain this was her unwelcome shadow. "Vorn?" she said, surprised.

"Zesanna sent me after you," the male drow said in a low voice. She could tell from how he was standing that he was probably wounded and certainly bruised. Apparently he had not been able to escape his fair share of battles. He chuckled. "You are not an easy woman to find."

"Come in," Khaless said. She opened the door wide enough for him to step in, then closed it behind him. "How did you find us?"

"I asked Ghaundar where you went. He lied, of course. Dunspeirrin is the closest non-drow city to Erelhei-Cinlu, though, so I guessed it would be your first stop. Why stay in drow territory if Rauva is the one doing the looking?" he said. He undid his sword belt to make it clear he meant no threat. "How is she doing?"

Khaless glanced over at the sleeping Vhondryl. She had tucked the baby into a nest on the floor made of her bedroll and pack. It was a nice secure place that was comfortable enough for her to sleep and it left Khaless the bed. "Good. I was worried about the Wilds, but she was very well-behaved. I only had to run for our lives a couple of times."

"And how are you?" Vorn asked as he studied her. There were no visible wounds, but that didn't mean she wasn't in pain.

"Fine," Khaless said, walking over to the narrow window that looked out over the city. She was unarmored, since she had taken the time to stop to clean and care for her armor. It was the first time Vorn had actually seen her out of armor besides the one time she had been dressed as a servant. His eyes traced lithe curves that were more visible now, appreciating the fluidity to the way she moved. "You said Zesanna sent you?"

"Right after she talked to you," he said with a nod, carefully keeping his eyes averted when she looked over at him. "I agreed, of course. Whether or not she would have actually accepted disagreement, I didn't try to find out. I wanted to come."

"It does keep you away from priestesses," the rogue acknowledged.

He smiled. "I much prefer your company." He knew he had to walk a fine line. The art of seduction was not sleeping with someone—force could accomplish that easily. No, the art was in getting someone to consent of their own accord, motivated by a carefully kindled desire. Khaless only needed time and he now had plenty of it. But first he needed to test the waters, to see just how long he would be waiting. "You know, I've been thinking about what you said. What you did."

"A kiss is just a kiss, Vorn," Khaless said, turning to face him. Her crimson eyes searched his dark ones, clearly recognizing the heat of desire in his face. The conflict was beginning in the center of her chest."They don't have to mean anything."

"But I think maybe they did," he said quietly, reaching out to her. This time, his hand touched her hip, beginning as only the brush of fingertips but quickly becoming a firm hold. He leaned in. He was playing with fire and he knew it, but there was something alluring about pushing the boundaries with Khaless. He kissed her, but this time he knew to start slowly. Her hands came to touch his armored chest as if she was going to push him away, but she didn't. The kiss was lingering and not quite as deep as he wanted, but it felt so good that he didn't really care. There was no pain, no fingers pulling his hair or digging in nails. No teeth bit down on his lip so hard that it bled. He reveled in the sensation of pleasure without agony.

Khaless felt the all too familiar burn of lust creeping into her body. She didn't have to love Vorn to enjoy this. She was drow. Loyalty to the dead and the past was not exactly programmed into her being. But she turned her head sharply, breaking the kiss. "Vorn, this is...this feels wrong."

"It doesn't have to feel right," he whispered, breath hot against her ear. She felt her resolve flicker. "It just has to feel good."

He could feel the muscles in her neck flex when she tightened her jaw. Instead of drawing back, he pressed his advantage by starting to kiss along them, adding a light nip every now and again. She shuddered. "Vorn," she said. She sounded as torn as she felt, wavering between a warning and a plea.

"Do you want 'right' or 'right now'?" he said against the soft skin of her throat, sliding a leg between hers until their hips fit together. He grinned when he realized that she was gripping the windowsill tightly with one hand, the other still resting on his chest. Maybe this wouldn't take as long as he'd thought. It must have been decades since someone last touched her like this. He added just an ounce of pressure with his leg and her hips automatically answered.

He felt her grab his armor by the strap holding on his pauldron. She used it to wrench him away from her neck, but before he could curse in frustration, she kissed him. This was not the gentle, almost chaste kiss she'd given him in his room. It was need unshackled, and yet it didn't hurt still. He felt her fingers working at the clasps of his armor as well as they could without having to pull her lips away from his and felt his own desire ratchet up to meet hers. There was no question who was in control at the moment. He had pushed her over the line and now she was the one leading them. Pieces of armor dropped to the floor until he was down to just clothing. His efforts to get her clothing off had been shut down by her work on his armor. Once he was free of the last piece, they tumbled into bed together. Nimble fingers danced underneath his shirt, smoothing across well-defined muscle. He let his hands wander everywhere, taking in every little hitch in her breathing with a grin.

Vorn was gloating inside his head. He had done what so many males had been unable to do. Khaless had turned down more than her fair share of propositions over the years. Now he was here with her and it felt so good that he wasn't sure how he had survived without this.

Then the baby started to cry. Khaless jumped away from him like she'd been burned. He could see the guilt and shame hit her like a wave and cursed inside his own head. She would be back in her shell. Even if he didn't understand why, he knew that much. Without saying a word, the rogue went over and picked up Vhondryl, making soft noises and rocking her gently. Ever so slowly, the crying faded again. "Khal—" Vorn tried to say.

"Don't," she said quietly, effectively cutting him off. "I'm your ally, Vorn. Maybe even your friend. But I won't be your lover."

"You want me," the male drow said, watching her from the bed. He was propped up on his arms to take in the view. Her firm body, soft in just the right places, had felt even better under his hands than it looked. Her reluctance now baffled him, particularly with how fervered her response had been. "Why are you making this difficult, Khaless?"

"It was a mistake," Khaless said, cradling the baby close for her comfort as much as Vhondryl's. She could clear her head when she was focused on taking care of her foster daughter.

Vorn made a growling noise despite himself. He was frustrated. He didn't know what to do with hot and cold. Priestesses would tease sometimes, but ninety-nine percent of the time they were there to take what they wanted. Khaless clearly wanted; she just wasn't taking. "What do you want from me, then?" he said, keeping his tone even and free of the irritation he felt.

"I'm not asking for anything," Khaless said. The temptation to return to his arms was surprisingly powerful. She knew it was idiotic and maybe insane to cling to memory in the face of a present like this. "Vorn, go back to Erelhei-Cinlu. It's safer there."

"You're as bad as Zesanna," he snapped. "You say you're not interested when you are and you're perfectly fine with throwing me to the priestesses undefended."

Khaless felt her nerves snap. "What do you want me to tell you?" she demanded in a rising voice, ignoring the fact that it made Vhondryl start to cry. "I warned you that I couldn't be what you want! Even if we were lovers, how would I protect you? My nonexistent status? My absence of divine favor or power? I don't want to be a lover any more!" Vorn flinched back from her like a kicked hound when she raised her voice, immediately putting the brakes on her temper. Khaless cursed inwardly. Now she had two people to reassure. "Vorn, I'm not going to hurt you. Just...give me time to clear my head."

"Understood," Vorn said a bit stiffly, still watching her every movement. Other women had promised not to hurt him as well, but none of them ever meant it. "I have a room here. Will I see you in the morning?"

Khaless nodded slowly, looking back at Vhondryl as the male collected his armor piece by piece and then exited the room. "Never love anyone," she whispered to her charge, who was slowly settling down with hiccuping little breaths. "It is only pain."

The next morning when Vorn came downstairs, there was not a single sign of the rogue or her charge. He grabbed one of the svirfneblin serving. "The female drow, where did she go?" he demanded.

"She left hours ago," the deep gnome stammered out, taken off guard by the sudden display of ferocity from the male drow.

Vorn cursed and gave the creature a shove away from him. He didn't care that it nearly upset a table. He was out in the streets before anyone could react with violence. The male drow was fuming with rage a few hours later. There was not a single sign of any female drow with a baby to be found. He had, extremely naïvely, trusted her to meet him in the morning. Without her trail, he would be lost until he gave up and returned to Erelhei-Cinlu. Unfortunately, there were any number of places she could have gone from here, and when Khaless D'veldrin didn't want to be found, she wouldn't be.

* * *

Thalion sat in Khaless's room, trying to imagine what her life was like. There were trimmings of grey feathers left on the table along with glue and thread. Arrowheads were piled up neatly next to shafts of what passed for wood in the Underdark laid out in careful rows. There were books of poetry and history—particularly religious lore—everywhere, tucked away on the many shelves. One, a volume about the surface, had been left open but face down on the arm of a chair. She hadn't really bothered to pick up her living space before she left, but it was still quite clean. It was just her sheets that were disheveled and a few articles of clothing left crumpled on the floor. The place had a feeling to it, though. He knew without being able to articulate how that someone had spent years deep in memory here. There were hundreds of sketches on the desk in tidy piles. Some were of the Underdark, some were of the surface. The one of his face she had sketched so long ago was sitting right on top. It had been carefully cut out of the sketchbook and laid out here with pencils and ink alike beside it.

What held his attention more than anything else, however, was the empty crib.

It stung, the idea that she thought about him and found someone else all the same anyway. More than that, she'd actually had a child with them. He stood up and headed downstairs. Ghaundar was there in the main room, diligently tending to his armor. "Who was he?" Thalion asked.

The male drow looked up and then shrugged. Over the course of a month, he had sort of adapted to Thalion's regular presence, even though he wasn't exactly exhilarated to have elves in his home. Alassëa tried to help, but he mostly just growled and snapped at her. Of everyone, he actually seemed to be getting along with Nek the best. The two of them were bonding over their mutual distaste of surface norms. Malagos was another one Ghaundar tentatively regarded as alright because they could discuss tactics and warfare. "Female drow run their own lives, particularly Khaless," Ghaundar said. "I don't know if you noticed, but she has an independent streak."

Thalion chuckled a little bit. "I seem to recall that, yes," he said. The male drow didn't crack an answering smile, but the elf knew better than to expect that at this point. "Part of her charm."

"Yeah," Ghaundar said. He felt a little pang. He hadn't realized how much he would miss having his friend to talk to or work out with. Chasing the dummies around wasn't even vaguely the same as having to try and hit Khaless as she danced around him with a blade in one hand and a bow in the other. Being hit with the end of that wood could hurt like a son of an elg'caress. It didn't break like he'd thought it would.

"Does she still see him?" Thalion asked.

Ghaundar shook his head. "No. She has Vorn chasing after her now," he said. It was easier and easier to perpetuate the lie the longer it went on. It was almost as if the false story had developed its own inertia.

"Vorn?" the wood elf said, ignoring the flare of anger he felt at the mention of someone else chasing Khaless. It was perfectly reasonable. If he thought she was beautiful, so would others. "Do you think he'll succeed?"

"She'd be a fool not to take him, given his reputation and standing with a House," Ghaundar said. He knew it would irritate Thalion, but he didn't particularly care. "Vorn may be another woman's consort, but everyone knows Zesanna doesn't care."

Thalion's eyes narrowed, but he didn't snap at Ghaundar. "Zesanna? Rauva's sister? Why would she not care about what her consort does? That's practically her husband."

"It's much more complicated than your surface idea of marriage," the drow said irritably, though it wasn't clear if he was bothered by Thalion or the spot of rust that he'd just found on his armor. "But to answer your question, who knows with Zesanna?" There was a knock on the door and Ghaundar rose to his feet. "Hide, elf. This might be someone important."

Thalion stepped into the stairway and closed the door all but a crack. He couldn't see, but he could hear someone come in with a murmur from Ghaundar. On the other side of the door, Ghaundar sat down across from Zesanna. The drow warrior was grateful he had told Thalion to conceal himself. "I have a task for you, Ghaundar," the cleric said pleasantly as she seated herself. Her wound had healed and the scar was faded by magic to nonexistence. "Since Khaless has shaken Vorn off her trail, I may have him help you when he returns to Erelhei-Cinlu."

"I'm ever at your service, my lady," Ghaundar said with a bow of his head. He knew the conversation would be overheard by the elf, but there was relatively little he could do about it. "We are not meeting at the usual place. Is something wrong?"

"My sister just had an agent sponsor two faeries for citizenship and snuck it past House Tormtor with the help of a bribe. Why do you think any priestess of Lloth in their right mind would do such a thing?" Zesanna said. She didn't sound or look angry, which relieved him. However, she was frustratingly neutral in her expression and tone. Ghaundar wasn't certain what the right answer was.

"Perhaps she is not in her right mind, my lady," the male drow said respectfully, keeping his eyes appropriately lowered. "I do know of the faeries of which you speak."

"Yes, they accosted you in the Lady's some time ago...after asking about Khaless. Ghaundar, has it occurred to you that Rauva might be using them as an instrument to get after your partner? Khaless confided in me that she thought the spy might have reported to my charming sibling despite what he protested," Zesanna said calmly.

Ghaundar cursed the fact that Thalion was listening in. "I didn't know that they had spoken to Rauva," he admitted in a low voice, well below the elf's ability to hear. "But it would make sense. No elf comes into the depths without an ulterior motive."

"They certainly have one now," Zesanna said. She leaned back in the chair, almost lounging as she looked at Ghaundar through half-open eyes. "Find out what they know. Find out why they're here. Find out what Rauva wants from them. Watch them. Report to me what you find."

"Is that everything, my lady?"

Zesanna sighed. "Vorn will need sense beaten into him when he returns. I have a sneaking suspicion as to why Khaless refused to allow him to travel with her. Can I rely upon you to see to this? Oh, and keep him away from my lovely sisters. I need him in one piece for now."

"Of course, my lady," Ghaundar said. He stood up. "Would you care for a glass of wine?"

The priestess smiled at him in approval of his hospitality."That would be appreciated, Ghaundar. Khaless has you trained so well."

"I find that women appreciate my domestic nature, my lady," Ghaundar said, going over to the bottle standing out. He'd been saving it for his birthday, which was in a few days, but a better present to himself would be Zesanna's good graces. It was a fine lichen wine hailing from Menzoberranzan, a little taste of home. He knew the priestess recognized the label on the bottle, because she smiled. There was a pop as he uncorked it.

"It is quite charming. You also have excellent taste," she said. She watched with amusement as he preened at the praise, but she also carefully monitored the way he poured it, just in case. "When Vorn dies, perhaps I'll offer you the position of my consort merely for the conversation. You're less whipped than he is."

Ghaundar grinned. "That might change if I were your consort, my lady," he said as he handed her a full glass. "Not that I wouldn't enjoy it, of course." He knew he could safely get away with flirting with Zesanna. Another priestess might drag him to bed if he did so or beat him for insolence, but she looked at him primarily as a tool to accomplish her task rather than a plaything. Besides, it always amused the cleric. Today was no exception, judging by the way her lips curved into a smile.

"I do believe you might," Zesanna said before sipping her wine. "Does Khaless know you're so keen to be at my service? I would think she might feel a twinge of jealousy or two."

"Would it matter, my lady? Khaless is the onyx to your black opal. Pretty, but we all know which one is more lovely and valuable," Ghaundar said.

Zesanna's laughter sounded quite genuine and marked a little victory on the grizzled veteran's part. Even Vorn could rarely make her laugh. Zesanna curtailed her sense of humor around most of the world. He wagered that he and Khaless were the only two who saw it with any regularity. There was an odd sort of trust that had been built over the years as they worked for her. It could be broken at any whim of the noble's, but until then it was enjoyable. "Ever a silver-tongued response ready, Ghaundar Dalael. I admire that in a male," she said. "No wonder you're so popular."

"Ah, but I could always clear my schedule for a woman of your unparalleled beauty and cunning, my lady," Ghaundar said with a grin. "Other women pale in comparison."

"Flatterer. How are things progressing with Aleval?" Zesanna said. The change of topic was a relatively subtle indication that she was done playing that particular game. He knew not to push it now, lest it stop being amusing to her. She never allowed anyone to stroke her ego for very long. Besides, she was a woman with business always on the mind.

"Well, my lady. I've either frightened off or bribed a fair number of their informants. I had to kill a few, but I did so quietly in alleyways. I haven't got Khaless's knack for poison, but I do have some she made up before she left that might be useful to you," Ghaundar said. He vanished into the kitchen and returned with a few vials.

"Wonderful. It should keep the others on their toes," Zesanna said, accepting the delicate glass vials and tucking them away in a hidden pocket within her plain clothes. Unlike Rauva, she preferred to move through the city in disguise unless she was on an official task or at a similar function. "No one's tried to kill Jhanniss in more than a month. She'll get complacent if I don't at least try. I assume these are all ingestion?"

"Yes, my lady. Khaless took the others with her," Ghaundar said regretfully.

Zesanna nodded. They drank quietly, discussing the poisons and their respective doses, but once the glass was empty, the noble rose to her feet. "This has been delightfully diverting, but now I must depart," she said pleasantly, pulling her hood up. "Thank you for your hospitality, Ghaundar. It is delightful to see that even in Khaless's absence, your manners are impeccable."

"Your servant as always, my lady," Ghaundar said with a deep bow before opening the door for Zesanna.

The moment the door closed, Thalion came spilling out of the stairwell to upstairs. "Who was that?" he all but demanded. He didn't doubt that now every word he said to Ghaundar would be making it to someone's ear, whether or not he was Khaless's lover.

Rauva had been good to them ever since they'd met. Thalion was really beginning to believe she might have been honest when she spoke of wavering. She hired them for simple jobs out in the Wilds and paid them very well for it. Citizenship also had its advantages, though he and Alassiel had to make certain their black badges were particularly prominent and both carried copies of the letter of approval with them. Overall, Rauva's protection and beneficence had allowed them to survive and even begin to thrive in Erelhei-Cinlu. To hear she was somehow at odds with Khaless and this mystery woman put him very ill at ease.

"Have you learned nothing from your time here? Mind your own business," Ghaundar grunted, pouring himself another glass of wine.

"She told you to spy on us! I think that makes it my business," Thalion all but snarled.

"And it makes me very unlikely to cooperate with you," the drow said with a grim smile. "Particularly with that winning personality and lovely sense of humor you have. What Khaless saw in you I will never understand."

Thalion took a deep breath to rein himself in. His temper was particularly volatile right now because of everything Ghaundar had already told him. He didn't need to punch the drow male out and make it worse, however tempting it was. "Look, we're not enemies—"

"What color is your skin, faerie? What color is mine? Until they match, we are very much enemies," Ghaundar said bluntly. "I have not forgotten what your avengers took from me and Iwill certainly not forgive any of you for it. I am not Khaless."

Thalion sighed. "Fine," he said. The best he could reasonably hope for from Ghaundar was tolerance to his presence, which he was slowly but surely winning. It was just times like this when things flared up. He wasn't certain what exactly it was that was taken from Ghaundar—the drow never elaborated—but it must have been very near to the male's heart. "I'll go home. Alassëa should be relieved."

"Let me guess. She worries that you're dwelling," Ghaundar said almost tauntingly. "Perhaps you are. Have you ever even considered what will happen when Khaless returns? It will have been forty years. Do you really think she will just gladly run into your arms and it will be exactly as it was?" The elf's silence told him that he had actually been assuming exactly that. The drow laughed. "She has a daughter now. She has drow who would be her lover instead of you. She has a life without you. Things have changed. You have changed. She has changed."

Thalion bowed his head, well aware that what Ghaundar was saying was true. He wasn't certain what would happen. Would they look at each other like strangers? Would there be anything of a spark left? He knew that he still wanted her, but was he more in love with her memory than her reality? It was terrifying to think of.

The drow male took some pleasure from the pain he was causing the elf, but not too much. More than anything else, he wanted to protect Khaless from these surface dwellers as she had protected him. If it hadn't been for her warding off priestesses, he wouldn't have been able to maintain his own happiness and independence. She deserved to have that same ability without the weight of this elf dragging her down. Even if she didn't choose Vorn, there were other male drow who had the potential to make her a very satisfied woman. Love was, in his opinion, overrated. Vaene had made him happy, but had they loved each other? No. There was no maddening devotion or insanity like Khaless had fallen prey to. He pitied her that. It was the reason she couldn't make her peace and move on, after all.

The wood elf headed for the door without a word. He had no good answer to the drow, so he kept his mouth shut. Alassëa would have some comforting to do.


	6. Zesanna's Interlude

"You're still thinking about her."

Vorn jumped a little and turned. Zesanna was propped up on an elbow, the sheet barely concealing her naked body. It was tasteful, as if an artist's painting. The fabric was draped over curves and revealed tantalizing hints of dark skin: a smooth thigh up to the juncture of a hip, the tops of her breasts, and slender arms up to delicate shoulders. Her full lips were smiling with a certain cat-like amusement. It was moments like this that reminded Vorn why he'd agreed to become Zesanna's consort. She could be cruel—even more so than Rauva when she was pushed—but she was also unmistakably beautiful and a skilled lover, if usually a somewhat selfish one. Granted, his physical attraction to her was very much secondary to his attraction to her power and influence. Even abused and used, he had a hell of a lot more sway now than he had ever had as a guard captain. He cleared his throat. "Who?"

She trailed her fingers down his back, brushing across the stinging scratches she had left. They were her only present marks and quite tame on the grand scheme of what he could expect from his average encounter with females. "Don't be coy, Vorn. It doesn't suit you," Zesanna said. "Khaless D'veldrin. She slipped through your fingers and it still bothers you."

He wasn't certain if she actually knew about his encounter with the renegade or if she was just inferring, but either way lying would do him no good. Vorn made a sound of genuine frustration. He could remember his defeat very well without her prompting and he knew Zesanna had brought it up only for her own amusement. "She will reconsider," he said confidently even though it had been well over three years since he'd last seen the rogue. Khaless would be back. Erelhei-Cinlu was her home.

"Confidence is quite appealing in you, Vorn. Surprising, but appealing," Zesanna said. She was tracing geometric patterns with her nails on his back, lightly enough that he could almost barely feel them. It made him shudder, but pleasantly. It was a welcome change from an hour earlier, when she had been frustrated and rough. Something one of her siblings had probably done, most likely Ahlysaaria.

"Jhanniss is sick," Vorn commented, changing the subject. "Half dead, really. Her consort said she's been vomiting for hours and can't keep a thing down. Burning up with fever too."

Zesanna smiled faintly, drawing some satisfaction from her sister's condition. Not too much, of course, lest she start to look responsible. "Well, I imagine this kind of thing keeps her on her toes," she said idly. There was a knock at the door and Zesanna sighed. She recognized that impatient rap: Rauva. "Come in." She carefully assumed the perpetually bored expression she wore whenever she dealt with her older sister.

It was clear as soon as the door opened that Rauva was less than pleased with her younger sister. The older priestess's eyes were narrowed and her lips curled into her trademark look, arguably the best expression of undisguised contempt that Zesanna had ever seen. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" Rauva demanded.

There was nothing secret about her loathing for her younger sister. The problem that Rauva had encountered, however, was that all her efforts to kill or maim Zesanna had failed. The younger priestess was stupid, but she sometimes seemed stupid like a fox. There were dozens of attempts that had failed at least in part because of the hopeless incompetence of the younger priestess. Sometimes she wouldn't take the bait, sometimes she failed to keep a routine or be where she was supposed to be, or sometimes she was so preoccupied with say, a male, that she didn't bother to attend any function where there might be poison. It was completely infuriating to Rauva. Jhanniss and Ahlysaaria were easily manageable. They could be pitted against each other, manipulated, toyed with. Zesanna seemed unable to grasp that level of subtlety, instead favoring detached boredom that motivated her to do nothing constantly.

Zesanna looked perfectly bored, ignoring the fact that she was naked under the sheets. She didn't bother to cover herself more or squirm uncomfortably. Vorn just hurried up in pulling on his pants. He could escape with his shirt and leave the two to fight, if he was lucky. "Is there a problem, Rauva?" she drawled even though she knew exactly what the problem was. Jhanniss had been on the oldest's side against the middle sisters. But after being poisoned, their youngest sister was inclined to be much more paranoid, including towards her supposed ally.

Rauva seethed. She looked about ready to grab something and throw it with the way her shoulders were tense and her hands were curled into fists. "Your thick-headedness has utterly lost its charm," she almost hissed, barely keeping herself under control. She knew some low, animal cunning wasn't beyond her younger sister, even if the motivation was lacking. "You poisoned Jhanniss."

"Now you've hurt my feelings, throwing those kinds of accusations around," Zesanna said as her lips curled into a smile. "Anyone could have slipped something in Jhanniss's drink last night. It was a party, wasn't it? Or did you already rant at Ahlysaaria with no result?"

The older cleric twitched. It was true and while Zesanna had been near Jhanniss's drink at dinner, there was no way she could have done anything in plain view. The rest of the time, Thandysha's second daughter had been off flirting or otherwise finding amusement. Ahlysaaria was the more likely culprit, though she had denied involvement with surprisingly sincere vehemence. Rauva hadn't detected a lie there. Perhaps she wasn't paying enough attention. "You—"

"Jhanniss isn't dead. Which, while arguably a crime, does not a murder make," Zesanna said mildly as she motioned for Vorn to leave. He almost literally leaped at the chance, springing up from the edge of the bed and hurrying off out the door. "No funeral, no foul."

Rauva took a deep breath and collected herself. She sat down in one of Zesanna's chairs without permission, fixing her younger sister with a lethal glare that the other cleric seemed utterly immune to. It was maddening. "You're up to something, Zesanna," Rauva said with certainty. Her sister had been too quiet—well, she was always unnervingly quiet as far as activity in the city—of late to be wholly ignorant of the schemes moving through House Xaniqos and its holdings. "And when you try to be clever, you put us all at risk."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Zesanna said, her eyes almost gleaming with amusement for a moment. "But I can't think of anything I'm doing that might impact the House."

"Try giving your child away to be raised beyond our traditions and our status. For all we know, the brat will learn to be a commoner. Or worse, an outlander."

"Says the woman with two pet faeries," the younger priestess said with a grin. "At least I don't waste my time playing with my food."

Rauva scowled. "I have plans for them."

"Methinks the lady doth protest too much," Zesanna said. She almost laughed at the glare Rauva gave her. "How is your statue working out for you? The Matron seems to have gotten bored now that she has it. Did she even look at the thing for more than a minute? I know you went to considerable expense to recover it."

"Shut up!" Rauva hissed inarticulately. Her younger sister had always been better at getting under the skin of others, despite her utter lack of sense.

Zesanna smiled more. It was a rather sore spot in Rauva's ego, that she hadn't managed to win the respect she felt she deserved from their mother for all the work it had taken her to locate and acquire that particular little statue. The younger cleric had to admit she was interested in it far more than Thandysha was, but in privacy, Zesanna had always been more inquiring of a mind than her mother. She liked knowing how things ticked, from people to magic. She honestly wanted to get her hands on the statue herself, just for the historical value if nothing else. The carved piece was only faintly magical. It was the symbolism that came attached to something so old and so venerated that made it worthwhile. Zesanna had even allowed Rauva to reclaim it without sabotaging that effort because even if her sister won the glory, House Aleval was out on its ass.

It wasn't vengeance that motivated her machinations against that house. They had not wronged her or done her some injustice. It was pragmatism. Aleval was high enough that its absence or even diminishment would create a significant power vacuum and weaken Tormtor, its ally, but it was not a direct attack on the First House itself. She didn't even necessarily want Aleval destroyed. She just wanted them weaker, just enough for her to sink Xaniqos's fangs in through the cracks of their armor...whether Thandysha knew about it or not. After all, the woman wasn't going to be Matron forever. No doubt Rauva believed the throne would be hers. Only one woman in the House, however, had the deceptive powers necessary to survive in Erelhei-Cinlu: the one who had been perpetrating the city's finest charade. Zesanna knew she was good at what she did, otherwise she would have been caught. Granted, that could still certainly happen at any moment, but now her lies had inertia behind them. No one would believe it. She would likely be considered a fool even if she took power. That wouldn't matter, of course, because she would get what she wanted in the end. Appearances were for those too self-obsessed and vain to deserve privilege.

"Eloquent as always, Rauva," Zesanna said as she stretched lazily. Her form was trim, but it wasn't hard muscle. She wasn't one for the battlefield, though she was quite capable of defending herself. House Xaniqos's second daughter merely preferred the war of minds that waged all across the city at every level of society. That was the more dangerous game. "Now run along. I'm sure there are plenty of people for you to torture with your delightfully grating voice."

Rauva stood up in a towering rage. She wanted to just lash out with a spell and wipe the stupid, bored smirk off Zesanna's face. The only thing stopping her was the knowledge that Thandysha would have her head. The Matron considered actual physical confrontations between her children to be childish. At their age, their conflicts were expected to have become much more subtle. Thandysha was ill-inclined to encourage juvenile behavior, particularly if it cultivated the bad habit of trying to solve every problem with a fist. Rauva knew when to cut her losses and so she stalked out without a word.

Zesanna basked for a moment in the warm glow of satisfaction that always came with pushing Rauva to the brink. It was a short and yet very sweet moment of pride. It had been a good day. Two agents of Aleval had been turned, Vorn had proved extremely diverting from her little flare-up with Ahlysaaria earlier, and now a fuming Rauva had stormed out of her chambers. She sat up and started leisurely pulling her clothes together before strolling to the bath. Soaking in hot water would only make things better.

Sometimes, though very rarely, she wondered about her daughter and Khaless. For the most part she kept herself busy. Occasionally, however, a sort of detached curiosity crossed her mind. What would the girl be like? Zesanna hoped her child would have a devious mind like her own rather than one of Rauva's caliber, if only to spare House Xaniqos future embarrassment. Would she have the ambition of the Xaniqos family? The hot temper? Would she even survive to return to Erelhei-Cinlu? Would she survive after her return? There were so many questions that percolated up from the dark recesses of Zesanna's mind. To say she didn't care would be a lie, but the vast majority of her sentiment on the subject was that curiosity. She wanted to probe and pull and push on the girl until her daughter was wrapped around her finger the way her sisters were. Maybe with Khaless as a mentor, the girl would even push back.

She didn't second guess her decision to put Vhondryl with the drow rogue. It was as natural as gravity. Khaless was a patient creature, a gift honed by years as a huntress and a spy. She could tolerate a child where other agents of Zesanna's might have given up. Besides, the renegade had so much to teach too. Few others knew the inner workings of the drow world so well. Khaless was a servant and a commoner, yes, but she was a well-educated and well-trained one. Rauva always managed to underestimate how powerful and how useful that kind of person could be. She was too superior.

Zesanna knew that the only thing that separated her from the rogue was an accident of birth.

Before she could really stop and enjoy soaking in the hot water, she heard approaching footsteps. They were quiet, so quiet they were barely a sound. Not as silent as Khaless's walk, but not much louder. "Zesanna," a pleasant baritone voice said.

"Adinirahc, what a surprise," she said with a smile, tilting her head back to look up into amethyst eyes. "Care to join me?"

"I have such difficulty saying no to you." Adinirahc Tormtor, eldest son of Matron Mother Verdaeth, started unbuckling his armor. He was tall for a drow and lean, his face sharply angular and handsome in the harsh way of the drow. He had been on campaign for the past few years, beating back the threats to Erelhei-Cinlu that sometimes reared their head. Those battles were visible in the scars across his muscular frame. "I see Vorn is still skulking around."

"He has his uses," Zesanna said even as she smiled at him. Her gaze was appreciative when he joined her in the baths, though much of her relationship with Adinirahc was beyond the mere physical. He was the only one who knew her for who she was and was aware of her grander plan, although she had kept the details to herself lest he try to betray her. "Jealous?"

Adinirahc chuckled. "I don't stoop to competition with flies. I prefer to turn my attention to my fellow spiders," he said smoothly. "He can play at consort. I will be Patron."

It was a promise Zesanna had gladly made, considering it would tie her and her house closer to Tormtor than even Aleval had managed to become. The good graces of the first House would be invaluable if she intended to work her way up the ladder. Besides, Adinirahc was possessed of an ambition that rivaled her own and he absolutely loathed his mother, which gave him ample reason to sit in Zesanna's camp. He knew that even a temporary alliance between Zesanna and Verdaeth would be ultimately to the Matron of House Tormtor's detriment whether she knew it or not. The fact that Adinirahc was attractive and intelligent was an incidental, but pleasant bonus. She had known him for a very long time, since they were both barely adults and struggling to find their way in the world. They were useful to each other, even valuable. Both drow regarded each other with a certain degree of mutual respect and considered each other allies, even if not perfect ones. After all, they each had their own agenda.

Zesanna stretched. "It will take time. Rauva poses something of a challenge, though not as significant a one as I initially expected. She may have misstepped significantly when she embroiled herself with faeries," she said. "If she succeeds in her little scheme, of course, it could be problematic. It will, however, soak up her time and resources enough to impair her in other places and rushing it would be even more risky for her. That gives me ample opportunity to throw a stone through her web. When Khaless returns, I intend to...push the matter with Rauva."

Adinirahc looked at her with thoughtful amethyst eyes. "Khaless is the one you sent the baby with," he said, looking for confirmation. He never said ' _our daughter_ ' or asserted any claim over Vhondryl. He didn't think of himself as a father and preferred it that way. Emotional attachment was not an interest of his. He hadn't even been there for the birth, though Zesanna regarded that as for the best. It was better that people not know of their connection until she was absolutely ready to make her move, and that meant both Rauva and the Matron had to be out of the picture.

"Yes. She's proven very useful," Zesanna said. "I think I might keep her when I'm Matron. I will need someone like her around. She isn't like others. She is loathe to break her bonds where others might chafe at them. Rauva has tried to engage her services before, not knowing that I hold a monopoly on Khaless's time, and with no prompting from me, she shut my darling sister down."

"How loyal of her," Adinirahc said. He didn't sneer at the foolishness. He almost looked amused.

"She needs me, certainly more than I need her," Zesanna said dismissively. "I wouldn't imagine there is more to it than that." She paused and smiled. "We'll see if that remains true with Vhondryl."

"You think she'll become attached to the child?" the powerful male asked, raising an eyebrow at the notion. After all, Vhondryl had no shared blood with Khaless. He couldn't imagine enjoying the company of a child foisted off on him.

"If Khaless has one flaw, it is her sometimes sentimental nature. After all, she keeps her thug around even though he's past his prime," Zesanna said even as she mulled all of this over. "It will be highly advantageous if she favors Vhondryl. It means someone will be actively ensuring my daughter's survival even after she returns to Erelhei-Cinlu. Khaless D'veldrin is a useful ally, even if not an obviously powerful one. Never underestimate the common drow."

Adinirahc's expression was very difficult to read, but not impossible. Zesanna could see a little hint of skepticism at the corner of his mouth. "We will see," he said.


	7. For the Best

_They grow up so fast._

 _..."Spi-der!" Vhondryl chanted, waving stubby fingers at the little creature crawling down the wall towards her. There was not a hint of fear anywhere in her demeanor. "Spi-der!" Her amethyst eyes lit up with delight when Khaless used a piece of parchment to scrape it off the wall and held it close for the little girl's inspection. Vhondryl was a healthy, happy three-year-old._

 _"This is a creature of Lloth," Khaless said with amusement despite herself. It bothered her that she was teaching Vhondryl about the nightmarish goddess who ruled over the drow with a crushing, iron grip. However, this was a matter of survival. She could only do her best to steer Vhondryl in the right direction. "Always respect it."_

 _"Lloth," Vhondryl chirped. Khaless felt the center of her chest tighten. The little girl didn't even know what that word really meant. The worst part was, someday she would..._

 _...the patter of running feet accompanied by the sound of sniffling barely contained snapped Khaless out of her reverie. At first, she was panicked. Had Vhondryl hurt herself? Was everything alright? The door burst open, admitting an upset child who ran straight into her foster mother's arms._

 _"What's wrong, d'anthe?" Khaless murmured, stroking soft white hair. The rogue knelt down so that she was at eye level with Vhondryl. She couldn't see any blood, which was a good start. The six-year-old looked nigh inconsolable._

 _"They called me names and hurt Iv!" Vhondryl said through tears. Khaless immediately understood. The fist-sized tarantula was Vhondryl's best friend. The little girl then produced the spider in question, who looked scuffed up but otherwise unharmed. He was probably just jarred from being thrown or something like that._

 _"What have I told you, d'anthe?" Khaless said firmly. "Don't get upset. Get even."_

 _The next day, Vhondryl darted in looking so pleased with herself..._

 _..."Will you teach me how to use a knife?" Vhondryl asked from where she was sitting by the oven's warm fire. Khaless was cooking, an oddly domestic task that had taken her less time to learn than an outlander might have expected. It turned out that a kitchen was far preferable to trying to make rations palatable over the faintest of fires out in the Wilds. The girl was nine, but already she had demonstrated that she was dexterous for her age. All of her climbing and running around the city and the Wilds made her strong for her size as well._

 _"Of course. It's something that everyone should know," Khaless said as she slid dinner into the oven to cook. "Particularly you, d'anthe."_

 _"Why particularly me?"_

 _Khaless sighed a little bit at the thoughts that the question brought up. "The world you live in is more dangerous than you know, Vhon," she said. "Duergar and svirfneblin are only scratching the surface."..._

Years had rushed by Khaless as she tended to Vhondryl, every single day more precious to her than she had ever imagined was possible. She was there for first babbling words and first tottering steps. The feeling of a tiny body in her arms, heart fluttering like a bird's, would never fade. It was funny to see how like her Vhondryl was becoming despite blood. She recognized herself in the little girl's frustrated expressions and her graceful movements alike. It was rarely smooth and easy living, but Khaless was more constant than the average priestess and less prone to acting on her own whims. Besides, Vhondryl was intelligent enough for the both of them as far as the rogue was concerned. She never needed to beat in history or the faith of Lloth. Her foster daughter just soaked it in.

They were the only drow residents of Fellstrok that she had seen, citizens of the great city of the duergar that bridged the Long Walk—the path between the Vault of the Drow and the heart of the duergar kingdoms. There were other drow, but all of them were in transit. They did not make their homes amidst angled stone and the blocky faces of the duergar. Fellstrok, unlike Erelhei-Cinlu, had not grown organically. It was rigid and planned in a perfect square with great bridges that arched over the ancient road. Its forges were some small distance away from the city, drawing their fire from the subterranean heart of a mountain. It meant the city was cleaner than many others. Khaless always found it amusing how large and grand the buildings were, as if the duergar were compensating for their lack of size by trying to outdo every other race that traveled in the city. Earth elementals patrolled the high walls and the broad streets, servants of the duergar lairds who ruled jointly. They were about as smooth in their cooperation as the drow, by the rogue's estimation. She knew from her time in Erelhei-Cinlu that some of the fractures were instigated by drow agents to keep the duergar from becoming more of a threat to the dark elves. It restricted their power to trade alone.

Fellstrok was the hub of commerce for this part of the region. Slaves, coin, and other goods flowed through the city like water. The attitude towards drow was as much a blessing as it was a curse—it kept potential pursuit that much further away. Khaless had settled into the foreign quarter of the city, rubbing elbows with everything from very lost humans to goblinoids to svirfneblin and derro to a terrifying illithid. It was an uneasy coexistence with grudges that frequently boiled over into outright conflict, but there were usually earth elementals there to separate things before they became irreparably bad. The exposure to other races made Vhondryl a much more cosmopolitan child than she ever would have been in Erelhei-Cinlu. She had to rely on cunning and charm to survive where brute strength never would. Vhondryl had made herself into a popular little girl despite the reputation of the drow with the right mixture of pride, intelligence, good looks, a sharp tongue, and strategic batting of eyelashes. It was something Khaless certainly encouraged. When she came into her own as a priestess, she would be a frighteningly dangerous one.

Zesanna would approve.

Khaless tipped her head back as she lounged in her favorite chair with its view of the glowing amber lights of the forges. She had not found a shortage of work as a thief and a spy. She was avoiding assassination mostly because the chance to be wounded or to make an enemy was higher. Vhondryl needed her. It no longer felt strange to have someone relying on her.

There was a muted thud as her foster daughter jumped the last few stairs and hit the ground with a neat landing. She was excellent at moving quietly, but she wasn't so practiced that she could escape Khaless's keen hearing. "Everything's packed," Vhondryl announced. She'd just turned thirteen. Lingering in Fellstrok for so long hadn't been part of the initial plan, but things had always come up. Perhaps she could have avoided them and left, but Khaless honestly hadn't been ready to let Vhondryl go. She still wasn't, but she had accepted that it was inevitable. "Do we really have to leave?"

Khaless twisted in her seat to look into those amethyst eyes. "We do," she said reluctantly. They were leaving most of their belongings for ease of travel through the Underdark. It wouldn't be the first journey through the Wilds that Vhondryl was old enough to remember. Khaless had made a point of taking her out there often, though she steered clear of the most dangerous areas. Vhondryl had been in enough fights over the course of her life that Khaless was reasonably confident that the girl could handle the average danger she was inclined to run into, if only by dodging and evading. That did not, however, mean the renegade was willing to incur any unnecessary risk. She didn't believe in sheltering Vhondryl from the real world, but she didn't believe in flinging her foster daughter into the deep end alone either.

Vhondryl sat down cross-legged on the rug and looked up at the woman she knew as her mother, giving all of this careful thought. "And my birth mother will be there in Erelhei-Cinlu," she said somberly. That had not been an easy truth to tell, for selfish reasons, but Khaless had made certain that it was known. She also tried to make certain it made no difference, but drow were not great at expressing their affection. Her own mother had not exactly been loving—as a priestess, her mother had very little tolerance for anything that strayed beyond the bounds of her own worldview and Khaless was at that point a very curious child. That went exactly as well as one might have expected of the drow.

"Yes," Khaless said. She had suffered through innumerable questions about Zesanna and she had always tried to answer them honestly. But over the course of the past few years, her questions answered, Vhondryl's curiosity had waned. Instead, she clung more tightly to Khaless as if aware that their time was coming to an end.

"What's going to happen when we reach Erelhei-Cinlu?" Vhondryl asked. She was pretty even for a drow girl with her mother's aristocratic features and her father's captivating eyes. Her white hair was long, falling forward into her dark face.

"I wish I knew," the rogue admitted. "You'll be with me for a time, I imagine, but then House Xaniqos will want you. What they want, they get."

Vhondryl's lips thinned in a decidedly Khaless-like expression of disapproval. "I don't want to go with them. I won't."

Khaless smiled faintly despite the ache she could feel starting in the center of her chest. Vhondryl had turned out incredibly strong-willed and it could be like fighting the rush of a river with her. It sounded like Zesanna would have her hands full. "I don't want you to go either, d'anthe, but this isn't about what we want."

"If you wanted me to stay with you, you wouldn't leave Fellstrok," Vhondryl snapped.

The rogue felt her temper flare, but she bit down on her tongue. She wasn't going to argue when her time with her fiery ward was fast running out. "That's not true," she said coolly. "Now go get your things. We need to leave sooner than later."

"They're already out with the lizards. So are yours," the young drowess said. There was still a definite acidic bite to her words.

"Watch that tone," Khaless said warningly. Ruby met amethyst in a fierce contest of will expressed in a single glare. After a moment or two, Vhondryl dropped her gaze in a silent submission. She wasn't exactly afraid of Khaless, but she did know when not to push her luck. She was still highly sensitive to the moods of others. It was an odd sort of empathy to see in a drow. Khaless didn't honestly know what to do with it.

There was a knock at the door and Khaless sprang up. She wasn't expecting anyone, but it could have easily been one of their neighbors or Vhondryl's little clique coming to say goodbye. When her fingers brushed the door handle, however, she felt that unmistakable tightening in her muscles that meant danger was near. "What's wrong?" her foster daughter asked, immediately picking up on the sudden change in the air.

"Vhon, get to the lizards. Go by way of the roof," Khaless said cautiously. "Make certain you're not seen. If you hear fighting, just go to our place in the Wilds. I'll meet you there." Another knock sounded on the door. "Coming!"

There was not a word of argument from the girl. She knew that when survival was on the line, obedience was the safest route most of the time. Sometimes she regarded her foster mother as verging on paranoid, but rarely was Khaless wrong. The rogue had centuries of experience reading people and situations. Vhondryl scampered upstairs, headed for the window in her room that overlooked a small ledge on the roof. It faced rearward, meaning it wasn't visible from the street.

Khaless opened the door to see an absolutely massive orc standing there, flanked by a handful of mercenaries. His wicked-looking black blade with its barbs and burrs promised very unpleasant things in her future if she was hit. She wasn't even going to be able to parry that with her long knife. It was too big. "Can I assist you?"

"Where is the girl?" the big orc growled. He didn't have to try to be menacing. He just was.

Part of her wanted to feign ignorance or something equally stupid, but she knew it would only get her killed. Instead, she smiled grimly. "Let's dance, orc." Before he could react, she whipped out a long, lethal blade and slashed across his right bicep in a crippling blow, severing enough muscle to render that arm useless. Then, instead of standing and fighting the gang of armed men, she turned and ran through the house towards the back door. There was a great hue and cry as pursuit began. The most particular sound was the roar of agony from the orc. Crossbow bolts struck the wall around the back door, shattering a rather nice vase and ever so narrowly missing the running drow. Khaless was grateful she had taken the time to learn Fellstrok and its streets well.

She sprinted through back alleys and wove through markets, ever running in zig-zagging patterns so the crossbow bolts were more likely to miss. The armor of her pursuers slowed them down just enough for her to eek out a lead. She tipped over stalls behind her, sending weapons clattering into the street and underground vegetables rolling across paving stones. She could hear cursing behind her in a dozen different languages, but none of that mattered. She needed to loop back and meet up with Vhondryl out in the Wilds at their hiding place. Every time they left or even stayed, she made certain the girl knew of at least one safe spot to go to. Vhondryl was smart enough to know where to go and when to hide.

Khaless leaped over a low wall and landed neatly in an alchemical garden. She pulled up her mask that warded against poison and kicked some of the more dangerous mushroom blooms until they threw up clouds of deadly spores just as the orc and his gang came crashing over the wall. She immediately vaulted over the next wall to the sound of coughing and hacking painfully behind her. She wasn't certain it would kill the orc, but it would at least slow him down. With a leap, she sprang high enough to grab a low signpost and swing herself up onto a windowsill. It was probably only six inches wide, but that was enough. She used the purchase to leap to the other side of the alley onto a lower roof. Then it was off back across the city, hunting for any sign of Vhondryl.

It took minutes, but finally she spotted a pair of racing lizards, one riderless, streaking down the Long Walk. Khaless grinned and muttered, "That's my girl." Then she was off after the small, single rider. It would take her hours to reach their safe place, but it was time well-spent if it kept Vhondryl safe.

Their hiding place was not very far off the Long Walk, a hidden cave beside the Stonedeep River. The waters' rushing, frothing currents lent the entire cavern a coolness that made Khaless grateful she was wearing armor over her clothing just for the extra warmth. Vhondryl was waiting, wrapped in a warm cloak as she sat in one of the little nooks where it would be easy for her to sink back into the darkness. Khaless purposefully kicked a tiny pebble across the stone, earning her the immediate attention of her charge. She didn't want to sneak up on the girl after their close brush with trouble, lest she get herself stabbed by accident. "You're alright," Vhondryl said with relief and a tiny smile. "Who were they?"

"Unpleasant men. I unfortunately didn't have time to stop and search them," Khaless said, pulling down her mask. Her run had blown the spores off of her body, at least until the concentration was low enough that they'd do no harm. She didn't mention that she had a sneaking suspicion of who had sent them. Not many people were inclined to worry so much about the daughter of Zesanna Xaniqos, save for one: Rauva.

"I heard them ask you where I was," Vhondryl said in her quiet, serious way. Her amethyst eyes were studying Khaless intently now. "Why would they want to know that?"

Khaless was silent. She had never directly said who Vhondryl was in danger from or even that she was in danger from anything in particular. She had simply taught that the world was a dangerous place. Now she might have to admit more than she wanted to.

"Mother," Vhondryl said quietly. "I deserve to know." Khaless had never been able to persuade her out of that mode of address, and it generally worked like a charm in getting what she wanted.

The rogue sighed and sat down on the stone, putting her back against the rough cave wall. She buried her face in her hands and so Vhondryl waited. The girl knew she would get what she wanted if she was just patient enough.

Minutes flowed by along with the water before Khaless was ready to speak. She knew she had to give the full explanation, and that meant taking innocence away that she didn't want to see go. "Vhon, I want you to listen to me carefully. Once I'm finished, then you can ask whatever you want. Fair?" Khaless said, lifting her head again. She didn't look over at her foster daughter and instead gazed into the rushing waters of the Stonedeep.

Vhondryl sat down beside her. "Fair," she said.

Khaless bit her lower lip hard, trying to force herself to talk. "I know you remember when I told you about the people in House Xaniqos that you would need to know, so this will be review. Rauva Xaniqos is the eldest daughter of Thandysha Xaniqos and your mother's older sister. I made you study her and all of your mother's sisters so intently for a reason. There can only be one Matron Mother and each one of those priestesses is intent upon making that title their own. Whatever the cost. If you are allowed to live, you will offer Zesanna security, as you can be relied upon to be her ally until she is Matron and you have your own designs on that position. None of her sisters will allow such a thing to go unchallenged. They will try—and have tried—to kill you. That is why you are not in Erelhei-Cinlu. It wasn't safe. I wanted to shield you from them."

"They're trying to kill me because I'll help my birth mother?" Vhondryl asked a little unsteadily. She could feel frightened tears coming on, but she didn't want to cry. "What happens when we go back to Erelhei-Cinlu? Won't they just kill me?"

"When you arrive back in Erelhei-Cinlu, you will be entering the protection of the Matron Mother. As long as you are training under Thandysha's supervision, they will be relatively unable to strike. If they try something more indirect, you will be far more prepared and capable than you would have been thirteen years ago," Khaless said. She turned towards her foster daughter and reached out to frame Vhondryl's face in her hands. She could see fear in those wide amethyst eyes and it broke her heart. "You have to be who you were born to be, Vhon. You won't be happy with less than that and you can't let them frighten you away. Do you understand me? You can do great things, Vhon. You will do great things. Be stubborn."

"I don't want to go," Vhondryl whispered. "I don't want to die."

"You won't die," Khaless promised. She would do everything in her power to make certain that never became a lie. If that meant earning the ire of the Matron or the Church, if that meant throwing Zesanna's plans into disarray, if that meant dying, Khaless was fine with it. As long as the pain and punishment was centered on her rather than Vhondryl, she could be content. "D'anthe, I'll be right there. I know it won't be like this, but all you have to do is ask and I'll be there. Not all the time, not obviously, but you'll always have me."

The tears were coming now, spilling down Vhondryl's face as fast as she could wipe them away. This would probably be her only chance to cry. She certainly wouldn't have the luxury in Erelhei-Cinlu. Vhondryl knew that. Hell, she wasn't supposed to cry now. Instead of an admonition, however, Khaless just pulled her into a tight hug. Vhondryl clung to her armor by its straps. "I don't want to go," she whispered again.

"I know," Khaless said softly. Now was the time just to let her cry it out. "You can do this." It was painful to watch her foster daughter's childhood come to an end, almost as painful as when she had seen Thalion die. The only thing that made it better was knowing that this she had power over. She could be there. She could help. Maybe she wouldn't be able to stop the insidious effect of Zesanna Xaniqos and her family, but she could kill and spy for her foster daughter. She could be someone trustworthy in a world devoid of trust. "When we reach Erelhei-Cinlu, you have to be strong. They will try to break you and make you cry. Never let them see the tears. Can you do that for me?"

Vhondryl nodded against her foster mother's shoulder. The tears slowed to a stop and she only sniffled a little as she wiped them away. "I can do that," she said softly. Khaless could still see the unhappiness, but there was resolve in her expression too. The girl would give it her best effort, if only out of spite.

Khaless smiled. "That's my girl." She gently disentangled herself from her ward and rose to her feet. "We need more distance between us and Fellstrok right now. This is a last act of desperation, but it's still dangerous. Come on. We have a long, long way to go. I sent word ahead to Ghaundar to expect us in a month. If we move swiftly, we can make that."

The girl almost immediately pulled herself completely together. She swiped away the last of the tears and stood as well. Without waiting, she went to her lizard and swung herself up into the saddle. "Will I like Ghaundar?" Vhondryl asked.

"He'll probably tease you," Khaless said as she relaxed a little. The worst of the meltdown seemed to be over with for at least the moment. "He won't mean anything by it. He is a good ally for you to have. He's older and thus more experienced than I am, though it doesn't always show. That should be it for allies, honestly. At least, trustworthy ones."

"I know I always say I hate it, but I think I'm going to miss Fellstrok," Vhondryl admitted as they rode out onto the Long Walk and she glanced back over her shoulder. "Do you really think Erelhei-Cinlu is better?"

"Trust me," Khaless said with a broader smile. "You'll love it."

* * *

Thalion paced back and forth across the floor, twisting the ring on his finger as he tried to calm himself down. Khaless was coming back. She was due to arrive today, in fact. Every doubt and fear he had was on parade at the moment. What if she didn't love him? What if she did? What about her daughter? Would she be angry or upset? What could he even say to bridge the gap of years? It had been a long time, even for for elves and particularly for drow, who tended to live shorter lives if only because of violence and intrigue. He had become accustomed to life in the Ghetto of Foreigners. He even enjoyed it at times. Now everything would be changing again.

"Are you sure she'll come here?" Alassëa said, looking over at Ghaundar.

"This is her home," Ghaundar said uncomfortably. The elves had become too comfortable with the presence of Rauva Xaniqos for him to ever fully relax around them. The woman had some kind of plan in mind for the elves just as much as for Vhondryl, and that was never a good thing. He leaned back against the wall and turned his head to get a good view of the street. "Let me talk to her outside before she sees you. Her daughter doesn't need to be here for this. Not until things are settled. The girl is probably upset enough."

He caught a flash of movement down the street and looked. There, with a smaller figure in tow, came a familiar silhouette. Ghaundar swallowed nervously. He didn't know how his friend would react to seeing her supposedly dead lover alive. It would either be very good or very bad. Alassëa caught the look and went over to the window as well. "Is that her?" she murmured, studying the pair. She couldn't make out much since Khaless was largely sticking to the shadows with her daughter.

"Yes," Ghaundar said as he pushed off from the wall and headed for the door. "Now go upstairs. I'll talk to her and then send her in."

The street outside was fairly quiet as Khaless approached with Vhondryl. She had been moving carefully, hunting for any sign of ambush. She trusted Ghaundar as much as she could trust anyone—which was not perfectly or completely—but she was afraid someone might be keeping an eye on him even still. It would be the natural place for someone to try and kill them. She watched as the door opened and Ghaundar emerged, looking right at her. They had been seen, so she broke from the shadows and walked more quickly towards him. Vhondryl glanced up at her and then at the grizzled male. "Is that him?" the girl asked, looking at her foster mother. Khaless was tense because she could see tension in the way her old comrade was standing. "He looks worried."

"Yes, that's him," the rogue said. She offered Vhondryl a small smile. "I'm sure it will be alright. And if it's not, we'll work it out."

Vhondryl drew a little closer to Khaless as they approached. She wasn't normally a shy creature, but Erelhei-Cinlu was very different from the world she knew. Seeing so many drow was both reassuring and alien. The duergar and svirfneblin she had become so accustomed to were very few in number within this part of the city. Ghaundar strode down the steps and up to Khaless. "It's good to see you again," he said, looking as relieved as he did worried. He grinned a little at the girl all but clinging to his partner. "And you must be Vhondryl. Last time I saw you, you were just a baby. I'm Ghaundar Dalael. Nice to meet you."

Khaless was tempted to pull him into a hug, but they were in public. Instead, she clasped his hand and leaned in. "What's wrong? Is it Xaniqos?" she murmured.

"No," Ghaundar said with a shake of his head. "It's much, much harder to believe. Some followers of Eilistraee are inside, up in your part of the house. Do you want me to take Vhondryl somewhere so you can talk?"

"I want her safe," Khaless said firmly. "I can talk upstairs. Let's go inside."

Reluctantly, the male drow nodded. He wanted to take Vhondryl away in case there was screaming or something to that effect. He couldn't imagine that Khaless would handle this gracefully. His partner was many things, but unshakable in her personal life was not among them. Still, he followed her into their home along with Vhondryl, hoping that something good would happen.

Khaless was so happy that nothing had changed. She paused, drinking in the sight of things she loved like a dying man in a desert might drink water. She put an arm around Vhondryl's shoulders and squeezed gently. "This is home for now. I don't know how long you will be here, but it will be a place open to you for as long as I am here," she said.

Vhondryl looked around, fascinated by the art and books. Over the course of her life, books had been an endless source of both knowledge and entertainment for the girl. She hadn't been here long, but already she felt excited and even safe. "Can I...?"

"Whatever you like. I have some business to attend to," Khaless said. "Just be careful with the books. Some are very old." The girl grinned and immediately headed for the shelves to examine the selection. Khaless nodded a little and then looked over at Ghaundar. "I'm not sure if we were followed or not. I didn't see anyone, but that may just mean they're good."

"I'll keep an eye out down here. You might want to take a breath or something before you head up there," Ghaundar said.

"What are they even doing here? I didn't make contact with them when I was in the city. Why are they here now?" The rogue was frustrated. She was about to lose her foster daughter and that hurt more than she had ever thought it would. Drow were not supposed to care, but this felt like a part of her was being torn away. If this was how she felt just in anticipation of the separation, she couldn't imagine what the real thing would be like. Now was not a good time for the clerics of Eilistraee to drag her into their struggles. She was faithful enough, but her primary goal was still survival and that had meant going it alone since she left Menzoberranzan. It was easier to just look out for herself, Ghaundar, and Vhondryl rather than focusing on any religious obligations.

"They're here to talk," Ghaundar said. He didn't like being vague, but she wouldn't believe it until she saw it for herself. Maybe he could tip the elves' hand a little, however. "Do you remember those faeries?"

"They're still alive? They're here? Vith." Khaless cursed more inside her own head. "I'll get rid of them quickly, before Zesanna or anyone else finds them." Without waiting for a reply from Ghaundar, she headed up the stairs.

He winced, but said nothing to stop her. This was going to be a wreck and he knew it. He looked over at Vhondryl, who had found a book and ensconced herself in one of the armchairs. She looked so much like Zesanna, and yet he could see Khaless in the press of her lips together as she concentrated. He had often seen that same look on his partner's face as she waited with bow drawn for her target to move out from behind cover.

Khaless took the stairs two at a time, reaching the door in maybe a second. She opened it, stepped in, and froze. If she had been a surface elf, she might have gone ghost white. In her case, it just gave her dark skin a lighter shade. Numb fingers released the doorknob and fell to her side. Her crimson eyes were disbelieving as they met hazel. Her stomach had dropped through the floor. It wasn't possible. He was dead. This was some kind of horrible trick. It was someone trying to cause her pain, trying to slide a blade through the armor around her heart. She had watched him die in her arms. It haunted her with nightmares almost constantly. And yet, here was Thalion—or someone wearing his face—in front of her beside Alassëa. The world was blurry now.

"Khal, we've been trying to find you for years," Alassëa said gently, approaching. "He's not dead. After you left the village, I managed to save him. Here, let me show you." The priestess murmured and wove patterns in the air with her fingers, casting true sight. It allowed Khaless to see things as they really were. Thalion's aspect didn't change.

Khaless couldn't breathe. She had spent years in agony just because a letter had never come. She knew it wasn't reasonable to expect. They hadn't known where to find her, not while she was evading House Baenre. She had made certain that she was a hard woman to find, if only out of fear. But she couldn't stop herself from feeling that twist of betrayal in the center of her chest. She moved away from the door. "Alassëa—"

"I understand," the elf said. Her appearance wavered and then changed, taking on the aspect of a female half-drow. She slipped out the door, leaving them alone.

Thalion was doing little better than Khaless. It was one thing to know she still existed and another, completely different thing to actually see her. He felt a sudden rush of anger at her, perhaps unreasonably so. She had a daughter with some other man after promising that he would be her one and only. Selfish? Yes. He stalked in close, backing Khaless into the wall. "Surprised?" he said, hazel eyes fierce. He wanted just to kiss her, to make sure that all she could think about was him.

"You died," Khaless whispered. She could feel her eyes aching with tears that wanted to come but didn't. It had been a long time since it felt so raw. Seeing his face, even if it wasn't really him, brought it all rushing back to the forefront with vividity. "I held you in my arms and had to watch. I thought I would never see you again." She wasn't convinced that this was more than some hopeful dream or break with reality, but she wanted it to be true so badly. She was sure she would die herself if it wasn't. The wall was comforting to have at her back, protecting her in case someone wanted to take advantage of her shock.

"Alassëa managed to save me. I don't know how," Thalion said. He softened a little, noticing the tension in her shoulders and the set of her jaw. She was on edge, threatened, insecure, and hurting. She was hurting more than he had expected, for someone that had moved on. "I suppose I was gone so long that you...forgot me, _melda_."

"Never," Khaless said with a shake of her head. There was a chance that this wasn't real, but it was real enough. Maybe it was time to just act and let everything else sort itself out later. A recipe for heartache, to be sure, but it sounded so appealing. "I could never forget you, Thalion."

Even if he didn't believe that, it felt so good to hear his name roll off the tip of her tongue in its accented way. He wanted to point out that she was a mother now and that their paths had diverged beyond the point of reconnecting, no matter how much he hated the thought. His intentions were abruptly ended when she kissed him. It was a very drow-like kiss, full of need and fear and pain. There was no supernatural charm to it as he'd felt when Caizel was toying with him. This was just Khaless. A soft warmth expanded in his chest as he slipped arms around her waist and hands came up to the sides of his face in answer. She wasn't kissing him tentatively. Not when she needed to think—to know—that he was really alive and here with her. Her hands dropped to his armor and immediately started to unbuckle it. " _Melda_ ," he whispered when she transferred her lips to along his jaw. "You don't need to—" He didn't want her to think she had to erase everything that had happened by rushing into this headlong. His body was a good deal less noble, already responding to the idea.

"I do," Khaless said fiercely. She could hurt later. She could doubt later. Right now she just needed to convince herself that all this was real. She needed to forget about the decades she had spent tormenting herself over a lie. She was a hair's breadth away from just drawing a knife and cutting off his armor when he caught her wrists and used those to pin her to the wall.

"Khal, we need to talk," he said. It came out as a longing groan, his nerves alight where her body pressed against his. His armor was half off, pieces of it hanging loose while others lay on the floor. His cuirass in particular had been freed and flipped open, putting his chest in full contact with hers.

"Why? Why do we need to talk?" the rogue demanded. She could hear the roughness of tears in her own voice, but she was managing to keep them back. "What can you possibly say that will make this better?" There was no magic cure to heartache and she knew that better than most. This was a wound she had nursed for almost half a century, torn raggedly open.

Thalion hesitated, not sure how to answer that. Maybe she was right and this couldn't be fixed with words. Sometimes only time could soothe an ache. He wasn't certain that there was any more of a place for them together as there had been when they parted, but he knew that he wanted this with her anyway. He had let her fall once without catching her. Why would he put her through more pain again? "As you wish, _melda_ ," he said softly before capturing her lips with his own. It was not the slow and gentle reunion he had imagined so long ago when he still stood beneath the sun. There was an edge of desperation to it, a need to feel something—anything—again. All of his doubts and anger evaporated the moment he heard her moan his name.

Khaless didn't care. It was Thalion's muscled back she ran her fingertips over, it was Thalion's hands on her in a way that made her shiver in pleasure, it was Thalion's body moving in tandem with her own. She had never held any dreams of seeing him again because she had felt, even known, with such certainty that he was dead. This time, she didn't yield control. She didn't feel safe enough yet to give it up. Thalion had to have guessed the truth, because he didn't push on that boundary. Both of them needed this in their own ways. It was as much an exorcism as lovemaking when lips scorched across sensitive skin.

It was the scar that hurt her. It was just a little thing, the star of an arrow-wound to the heart. It was raised just a little bit when she ran her fingers over it and wished it was gone. It was a reminder of that bone deep pain that almost immediately surged to the surface the moment she saw it. "Khal," Thalion said softly when she suddenly hesitated with eyes fixed on the mark.

"I'm fine," she whispered. She wasn't.

Finally, the world stilled. Khaless was in his arms, pressed against his chest with an arm over top of him to hold him close, almost afraid he would vanish even though this finally was beginning to feel real. Thalion kissed the top of her head and gave her a soft squeeze. "Right here, _melda_."

"I believe you," she said softly. "Or at least, I'm beginning to."

There was a long pause as she rested her head against his shoulder and breathed in deeply. After a few seconds, however, he had to ask. " _Melda_ , I want to know. Who was he?" he said softly, looking down at her.

"I don't understand," Khaless said, shifting to look at him. Now his hazel eyes looked as wounded as she imagined her crimson ones did.

"Your daughter's father."

Khaless took a deep breath. Everyone was about to know who Vhondryl was, so she knew she was free to tell him. It stung that he'd assumed she would forget about him, but logically she knew it was the natural assumption. "She's my foster daughter, Thalion. We don't share a drop of blood. It was for her safety. She is returning to her house now that she's old enough to be protected."

Thalion frowned, even though he felt a definite sense of pain relieved. He would have to at least wound Ghaundar later for lying, granted. "She wouldn't have been?"

"Not with Rauva, Ahlysaaria, and Jhanniss around," she said quietly. "Thalion, I don't think you understand just how desperate drow nobles are for power. Vhondryl is a threat. They will do literally anything to get rid of her. That is why Zesanna had me take her away."

The wood elf paused for a moment. He didn't want to believe that about Rauva, not with the fact that she was an ally they could scarcely afford to lose. Besides, he had heard plenty about Zesanna. Mindless cruelty did not sound like Khaless's kind of friend. "Zesanna Xaniqos?" he said carefully.

Khaless sighed. "I know," she said. Even though she didn't really want to, the rogue sat up and turned so she could look down at Thalion, the sheet pooling in her lap. "This is Erelhei-Cinlu. Nothing is as it appears. The Underdark is not a place for you and Alassëa. It has many, many dangers and most of them come from the shadows behind you."

"We came here to find you," Thalion said. Seeing her again had fully renewed all that longing and desire to just remain with her, no matter the cost. " _Melda_ , I want to be with you."

She almost wanted to strike a match so that she could see the hazel eyes looking up at her in full color. But it was bittersweet. The realist in her said there was even less room for them to be together now, when she was under the gaze of Zesanna Xaniqos. The woman didn't have a reputation as a fanatic, but she was still a cleric of Lloth and very much the type of woman who would seize any advantage. Demonstrating devotion and claiming favor with the Spider Queen would certainly be advantageous. "You don't belong here, Thalion. This is no more your home than the surface is mine," she said softly.

Thalion felt a surge of anger. He had waited all this time for her to tell him to leave? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Not after they'd ended up in bed together again. It stung to have hope suddenly jerked away. "You—"

"I am not saying this because I want to hurt you," Khaless said. Her tone was gentle even though the message was an unwelcome one. "This place will be your grave or worse. I won't abandon Vhondryl by leaving either. Not when the world is hounding her from every side. I know that I can't make you leave. But I want you to. For both our sakes'."

He sat up and pulled her into a tight hold. "No," he said emphatically. "I won't leave the city."

Khaless bit her lower lip hard. "I can't watch you die again, Thalion," she said in a very quiet voice. "I won't." She knew that her heart wouldn't be able to handle it. Her nature told her to protect herself above everything else, but either way she would be losing something she loved dearly. Perhaps, however, one offered her more solace in the knowledge that he would be safer. Not necessarily safe, but far, far safer. "That's how this will end. One of us will die."

"Khal—"

She turned her face away. "Leave me alone, Thalion. You should have never come and I am not going to tempt you to stay." Maybe she had needed this as one more desperate memory to hold onto.

"Khal—"

The rogue broke out of his embrace. This time her voice was sharp. "Go." There was no sign in her face that she could be persuaded. The set of her lips was too stubborn, her crimson eyes were too hard.

What could he do but obey? Thalion was silent as he got dressed, trying to ignore the numbness creeping out of the center of his chest. The anger would come later. He methodically buckled on his armor as if nothing was wrong and then left through the door, shutting it just a little bit too hard behind him.

Khaless could barely breathe around the choking knot in her throat. It was for the best, she told herself.

For the best.


	8. Start Again

Khaless stood at a rigid attention with her hands clasped behind her back. She tried not to look as tired as she felt courtesy of a sleepless night. She had to talk to Zesanna. Then she was going to lose Vhon. She supposed that she could lie and say that the girl wasn't what Zesanna wanted, but Vhondryl deserved better. She deserved to be a noble, never worrying about food or shelter or the thousand other problems of the average person. Nobility came with its own set of frequently lethal problems, yes, but they were obstacles that couls be more forgiving in their own way. A faux pas was easier to recover from than a famine. Poisonings and assassinations were not uncommon, and they were things that frightened Khaless. She understood them, though. She could fight them. Vhondryl wasn't really her daughter, but her heart didn't seem to understand that. She wasn't confident that she could keep the girl safe. Hells, she wasn't confident that she could keep herself safe anymore. She would just have to try and hope for the best. The urge to fidget was becoming overwhelming as she stood in the center of Zesanna's study. She knew Zesanna spent far less time than the priestess would have liked in this room. The books thick with lore waited for much of their time on the shelves untouched except for the dusting of servants. Whether she liked it or not, Zesanna was unable to fully enjoy her collection due to her carefully cultivated persona. The last thing she needed was a hint of academic pursuit ruining her reputation for scorn towards the studious. Khaless heard the door in the main room open and then shut. Feet approached rapidly and Khaless's stomach tightened unpleasantly. "Revered—" she began as the door opened. She stopped abruptly when she realized it was not Zesanna she had begun to address. "Revered Rauva, what a surprise?"

Rauva looked equally taken aback. "D'veldrin? I heard you were dead."

Khaless smiled in a wry way. "No, just very quiet," she said, recovering from her surprise quickly. When she realized there was a question on the way, she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. "Revered Zesanna had a few questions for me."

It was not precisely a lie. Zesanna would have plenty of questions about her daughter, probably more than the rogue would ever be able to answer. Rauva appeared perplexed for a brief portion of a second before her eyes narrowed almost imperceptibly. "And on what matter is she inquiring?" Rauva asked. There was a faint suggestion of suspicion in her tone.

Khaless cursed inside her own head. Of course this would end in cross-examination. She didn't want to let Rauva know she was tied to Zesanna or Vhondryl. It would keep future actions that much simpler. She didn't have to come up with a lie, however. Zesanna with all of her impeccable timing had arrived. "Khaless, wonderful as always to see you," the priestess said smoothly, stepping right past her older sister. She smiled with amusement. "And Rauva, what a surprise! I assumed you despised my presence and yet here you are."

"The Matron had a message that she wanted delivered," Rauva said, trying to maintain an air of neutral disinterest despite her narrowing eyes. She looked meaningfully at Khaless. "Business that should be delivered in private."

Instead of immediately excusing herself, Khaless looked to Zesanna for her cue. The rogue was no noble who could ignore the order of a priestess, no matter how indirect, but she knew whose good side she would rather be on. Rauva was dangerous, but Zesanna was lethal.

The younger priestess smiled in silent approval. "Whatever you have to say can be said in Khaless's presence. She may be mercenary, but she is a consummate professional. She keeps secrets like the grave. I expect the contents of our discussion will not leave this room. Will they, Khaless?"

The renegade drowess dipped her head to Zesanna as the cleric sat behind her desk. "No, Revered Zesanna."

Rauva glared, but said nothing of it. "Zesanna, if your daughter doesn't show up within the month, Thandysha is going to consider her dead."

"How fortunate that she arrived in the city yesterday," Zesanna said. "I intend to meet her today and introduce her to the Matron tomorrow. Did you have anything else, Rauva? I do so enjoy our talks, but I planned entertainment for myself today already."

Rauva's lip curled in contempt, no doubt imagining what wastes of time Zesanna had devised to amuse herself. The older priestess did not have a flattering mental image of her sister. "There is something else. Mevremas Aleval just demanded a private audience with the Matron. I don't suppose you know what Ahlysaaria or Jhanniss did? They talk to you more than me."

"Aww, not thick as thieves with Jhanniss anymore?" Zesanna said with mock sympathy, openly grinning to the point where Khaless could see Rauva's jaw working as the older cleric ground her teeth together. "I'm afraid that despite their scintillating conversational skills, I haven't heard a thing of substance in years. You're the one who raised them, Rauva. They learned it somewhere and imitation is the highest form of flattery."

"I will see that tongue cut out of your miserable head," Rauva snarled. "Do you know anything about House Aleval or not?"

"Oh, as much as anyone does," Zesanna said dismissively. "Rauva, I really do have things to do. I suggest you take up whatever this is with Ahlysaaria or Jhanniss. Alternatively, we can go with the obvious answer: the Matron stepped on Mevremas's toes and is looking for a scapegoat."

Rauva made a noise of displeasure and left without saying a further word. Zesanna chuckled a little and went over to the door to close it. The moment she did, hidden wards of silence flickered to life. "Isn't she charming when she doesn't get her way?" she said.

"She is the picture of charisma," Khaless said dryly. When Zesanna gave her an expectant look, she knew that it was time to discuss the reason she was there. "Vhondryl is doing well. She is upset with the change, but that will fade in time."

"I'm curious to hear your assessment of her," Zesanna said, looking thoughtful as she sat down behind her desk and looked up at the tense Khaless. "You know her capabilities."

"Her main flaw is her inexperience," Khaless said firmly, knowing she needed to be as impartial as possible despite the part of her that cared about Vhondryl without condition, the part that remembered skinned knees and birthdays and tottering steps. "But her physical stature and strength are less than ideal as well. She's not a toe-to-toe fighter and she never will be." Vhondryl had always seemed frighteningly fragile to Khaless. "She trusts too much still. I haven't broken her of the habit. It puts her at a great deal of risk."

"Indeed. And her strengths?" Zesanna said patiently. She was watching her agent carefully for any flicker of emotion. Khaless was excellent at hiding her feelings, but Zesanna's perception was perhaps unequaled. A faint smile played across her lips as she observed the rogue.

Khaless cleared her throat. "She is everything a scion of House Xaniqos should be, as promised," she said. "I do not know for certain how deep her ambition runs, but her intellect and will are strong. She has an aptitude for magic, or so I was told by a wizard whose acquaintance I made. She will make an excellent priestess someday."

Zesanna didn't move and barely seemed to bat an eyelash in a blink. "And her faith? Did you educate her properly? She would have been exposed to many religions in the outlands."

Khaless felt that knot in her throat. She wished she could go back in time to teach Vhondryl nothing about Lloth and everything about Eilistraee. It was about survival, she'd told herself. A child didn't need the pressure of that kind of secret. "Unswerving, Revered Zesanna," Khaless said, lowering her eyes when she realized she was being scrutinized. "I educated her as best I could."

"You are quite educated in matters of faith. I will test her before she sees Thandysha, but I'm confident that she will pass," Zesanna said as she leaned back in her chair. She seemed somewhat satisfied.

It was not a lie. Khaless had taken a fine toothed comb over the teachings and histories of Lloth after her conversion, hoping for answers of any kind. It was also part of understanding her enemy, the priestesses of Lloth who would have her extinguished in a heartbeat. She had gleaned a great deal of knowledge and that she had then passed to Vhondryl, or at least as much as she could teach a child. It would be invaluable for a future priestess. "Do you require anything else from me, Revered Zesanna?" the rogue asked respectfully.

"I'd like to know about her life," Zesanna said, motioning for Khaless to sit. "Your letters were understandably rare. I'm curious to know exactly what kind of woman my daughter is growing into."

Khaless spent the next three hours giving her mistress a thorough account of her time with Vhondryl, at least until the priestess was pulled away to other work. Zesanna's absence left her unsure what to do with herself. At this hour, her foster daughter would be soundly asleep. She didn't want to talk to Ghaundar, lest he bring up the disaster that was her romantic life. Khaless let her feet carry her where they willed, weaving through the traffic patterns of servants and masters alike out in the broad, pristine avenues that connected the noble estates just outside of the city proper. Eventually, she came to a stop on the Flying Bridge. The churning waters of the Pitchy Flow below were an accurate representation of her own inner thoughts.

Had she done the right thing with Thalion? He would move on, that much she was certain of. Hopefully it would drive him out of the city and well out of harm's way. When she had said that he didn't belong, she had said it honestly. He and Alassëa were dead walking if they remained in Erelhei-Cinlu. They just didn't know it yet. Blind. Faeries were always blind.

It was a strange feeling to have grieved so long for nothing. And yet, when she had found herself with the opportunity to throw that pain away for the exact thing that she hadn't even dared to wish for in the darkness of her private thoughts, she hadn't taken it. What did that say about her? Khaless bit her lower lip hard, looking down into the chaotic waters as if they held an explanation. The answer was probably nothing good. Did love really mean that little?

"You look lost, stranger," a familiar voice said teasingly from just over her right shoulder.

She didn't jump, no matter how absorbed in her thoughts she had seemed. Khaless had registered someone approaching almost unconsciously. "Vorn," she greeted, looking over at the male. "You look well." The last time she had seen him was when he was bruised and worn from the trails of the Wilds, so a great deal of things were an improvement. He didn't look as though he'd been too abused lately and his dark eyes had a spark of life to them that was usually somewhat lacking. He was smiling just a little, but she could tell by the twitch at the corners of his mouth that he wanted to smile a great deal wider.

At least someone was happy to see her.

"And you look troubled. I saw you leave Zesanna," Vorn said. He wanted to offer her his arm, but that might draw undue attention and he was still Zesanna's consort. Not that the priestess really would have cared if she knew...though she might have found his renewed interest in the rogue amusing. "Walk with me, Khaless? You are a friendly face, and both of us have few of those. As all drow, I suppose."

Khaless hesitated for a moment. Her feelings were already a conflicted mess. Adding Vorn to that was a recipe for disaster. If her time on the surface had taught her anything, however, it was that sometimes she needed someone else to talk to. "Thank you," she said as she fell in step beside him. They were headed not back into the gardens of the city's noble district, but into the thrumming heart of Erelhei-Cinlu on the far side of the bridge. There was anonymity in a crowd, not that either one of them was remarkable enough for people to pay attention. She was no noble and he had power only by association with Zesanna, who was not considered particularly high on the ladder.

The rogue knew that Vorn wouldn't expect her to bare her soul the way Ghaundar might. It was the burden of having a friend she didn't keep secrets from. It was a relief, certainly, but sometimes she preferred to go through things alone. This was something she needed to work out for herself. She knew Vorn was subtly studying her, hunting for cues to her mood. It was a survival trait that had probably kept him from crossing Zesanna or one of the others on many occasions. "Erelhei-Cinlu has changed very little," Vorn said after a fair while of walking. Silence with Khaless didn't feel uncomfortable to him, lacking the sharp edges of the brittle, passive-aggressive displeasure of the female drow he was accustomed to. Granted, those women usually preferred outright aggression most of the time, Zesanna excluded. He felt a faint warmth when the rogue gave him a grateful smile for making conversation. "Life goes on as it always does. I'm certain you already know about the political situation. You have contacts in valuable places."

"She's been busy," Khaless said, obliquely referring to Zesanna. Vorn was a good distraction from that heart-wrenching agony of losing Vhon and Thalion both at the same time. She would have preferred being caught by Andzrel Baenre to this. "And what about you, Vorn? How has the past decade treated you?"

Vorn chuckled and shook his head. "As kindly as ever," he said with a dark humor. "I live at the pleasure of House Xaniqos's daughters. I would say at the Matron's, but I don't think she marks any distinction between me and the furniture."

Khaless's expression softened slightly when she looked at him. "Zesanna isn't protecting you," she said in a way that wasn't the question that it might have been phrased as.

The male drow shrugged, rubbing at his jaw. No one gave him that kind of sympathetic look. It just...wasn't done. Those rules rarely seemed to apply to Khaless. She lived by some other standard. It would be interesting to see if Vhondryl similarly followed the beat of a foreign drummer. "She has her priorities."

Khaless set course for the back and side streets of Erelhei-Cinlu that had barely changed, each one memorized by the drowess, who was always prepared to run if she had to. Rarely did she put herself in a situation where fighting to the death was appealing. Getting away was better than getting stabbed any day. In barely more than a few moments, they were walking on less crowded avenues. She had no direction in mind, so right now they were ambling through the Ghetto of Artisans with all of its tenements and studios. They were surrounded by the sounds of people hard at work, whether their medium was stone, metal, or any of the other varied materials available here at the center of the drow world—in short, everything and anything.

"Have I ever mentioned how much I dislike her priorities?" Khaless said after a few minutes of quiet with a half serious smile that lasted only for a few seconds.

"I can't say I'm particularly pleased either," Vorn said. Anyone reasonable in his position would be unhappy with Zesanna. His tone was even, however, and very much resigned. He made it a point to walk close to Khaless. They were not quite touching, but they weren't far from it. Even after all these years, he still felt a pressing desire for company that didn't desire to inflict misery on him. As much as it could ever be true of anyone, the rogue was safe. "Are you proud of her?"

"Zesanna?" Khaless said, confused.

Vorn shook his head. "No."

The dots connected inside the renegade's head. Khaless smiled faintly, but it had a melancholy tinge to it. "More than I could ever say," she admitted. "It...hurts."

He didn't know what to say to make her feel even remotely better, but for the first time, Vorn wished that he did. Normally, he didn't care. The world had been unkind to him and he intended to pay it back in full. The rogue, however, was one of his few true allies. Not only did they serve the same mistress—they were both surviving by inches and would be in precarious positions in the near future. Perhaps they could hold each other back from the brink. Vorn was a creature starved for actual connection. He would take whatever he could get. "I can't imagine how that feels," he admitted. "Even if Zesanna had a child I could claim, she would never allow me to raise it. But I'm sorry that you're in pain." He was surprised that he actually meant it when he said it.

Khaless felt a little twinge at that. Vorn was right. He would never have a chance to know with Zesanna and he would be in a world of hurt if he tried with someone else unless it was after Xaniqos's second daughter discarded him. "It was worth it," the rogue said quietly as they rounded a corner into an empty side street. Traffic flowed by, but not through this little alleyway except for them.

Vorn stopped and leaned against a wall, studying her again. It was time to change the subject and he did have something that he wanted to talk to her about. "You left me in that inn," he said after a long moment.

"I couldn't be what you wanted, Vorn. The past has a hold on me like Zesanna has a hold on you," Khaless said softly.

He stepped in cautiously, not certain if she would run or slap him. "What would you do if I told you that I wanted to pick that up again. Try again."

"I would say that you're a glutton for punishment," Khaless said with a faint, wry smile. She didn't know what she wanted right now. She didn't want to hurt Vorn, but maybe she was hurting herself by saying no. Maybe she needed someone after all, someone who might not destroy their own life trying to be a part of hers. Vorn was still in danger, but little more than he always was, considering that he lived entirely at the whim of capricious noble priestesses.

"That's not a no," Vorn said. They were separated by maybe two inches. There was a certain tension to the air as the war raged inside Khaless's heart. He was confident that his side would win out. He was so close to it now, so close to her. It was a strange dance, but a more pleasant one than he had ever been in with any priestess. There was no expectation of submission. Strange as it was, they seemed balanced and perhaps even equal. She was leading them, however, and he knew she would ultimately get whatever she wanted.

"I'll hurt you," she said after a moment that felt like an eternity. That much she now knew with certainty. Everything she touched seemed to fall to pieces, Thalion being the foremost example of that. She had hurt Alassëa and Rûdhon too when she cut ties with them. She had contributed to the death of Ghaundar's lover, even though he didn't seem to blame her. She would hurt Vhondryl by giving her over to Zesanna. Vorn would just be another in a long line of pain. "Worse than you have ever been hurt before."

"It will be worth it," Vorn said with confidence. He reached out and touched her hand, not quite brave enough to brush his thumb over her cheekbone. Their fingers wound together and Khaless felt an ever so slight warmth in her chest that was almost immediately accompanied by a pang of fear. She wanted to run away again. Anything to spare both of them the heartache that she knew would come. It always came.

"I'm sorry," she whispered softly. Then she closed the distance, hand still in his, and kissed him ever so gently on the lips.

Vorn felt a combination of triumph and some other soft feeling that he had no name for burst to life throughout his body. It was a strange set of emotions. For so long he'd just been beaten down to the point of numbness. Now he was starting to feel again. It was disconcerting, but very pleasant. He could still tell that Khaless was tense. He was confident that it would fade in time as better memories overshadowed whatever it was in the past that had been holding her back. Maybe it had taken her heart those thirteen years to heal.

Khaless knew it wasn't healed at all, but she wasn't going to lay the burden of remedying it on Vorn's shoulders. He deserved better than that. She drew back, studying his dark eyes. They had depth to them that had been cultivated by years of suffering and hiding who he was to please others. Hopefully she could ease that much. He would have no obligation to be anything with her. She had learned that much in her time on the surface. "This will not be easy," she said quietly. "Zesanna might tolerate your abuse by nobles, but she would take it out of your flesh if she found out you were consorting with a commoner. Even me."

"I think you overestimate how much she cares," Vorn said. He tightened his hold on her hand ever so slightly in a reassuring squeeze. It was almost a reflexive response even though he had never done it before.

Thalion would care, if he remained in Erelhei-Cinlu. The thought made Khaless a little bit sick. She wanted to try again, though. She wanted to start over. She wanted a chance to be whole, even if it meant keeping secrets and moving in the shadows again. There was no way she would be able to tell Vorn about her attachment to Eilistraee safely. He didn't love her. He just wanted her as a lover. That much she could offer.

"I hope you're right," Khaless said. She reached up with her other hand, touching fingertips to his cheek in a featherlight touch. There was nothing more she could think of to say. She couldn't promise it would be alright. She couldn't even promise that they would survive.

* * *

"I can't believe she just…" Alassëa said, at a loss for words. Thalion had not come directly back after his rendezvous with Khaless. He'd been in probably every bar in the Ghetto of Foreigners, if the odor clinging to him was any indication. The elven warrior looked like a mess, his short brown hair going every which way and his eyes glassy with drink. He was cogent enough to tell her what had happened.

All he could remember was that final word. _Go._ Why had he even come to this wretched place? He wished he had settled for the unknown chances rather than the known rejection. Erelhei-Cinlu had no beauty for him. He did not love it as his home, no matter how long he had been there. But the longing still troubled him. He needed to go make things right, to go change her mind. There had to be something she could do.

There was a familiar rap on the door: Rauva's rap. "Sleep it off, Thalion," Alassëa said gently, pushing him down onto the couch. He couldn't find his feet well enough to stand up and argue. In minutes, he would be asleep. The cleric went and opened the door to see their friend-she had proven to be more than just an ally by her kind treatment-hooded and cloaked in that dark green visitor's garb that disguised her face. Her clothing was still nice, but it was not the robes of a noble priestess. "Come in, please. I wasn't expecting a guest this late."

Rauva pursed her lips. She wasn't certain how she wanted to play this. Perhaps she would have to play it as she went along. "The matter is urgent. I would not trouble you at this hour otherwise," Rauva said as she stepped in. She glanced over at Thalion and tried not to curl her lip in distaste. "What happened to him?"

Alassëa sighed. "That is a question with a very complicated and very simple answer," she said. "We can talk upstairs. He should be asleep in a minute or two and I don't want to risk waking him."

Rauva nodded and followed the elf. She still held disdain for Alassëa even after all this time. The faerie was trusting and weak. She allowed sentiment to stay her hand with regularity even when it was to her detriment. If she had lived in the Underdark for her whole life, she probably wouldn't have made it out of childhood. The priestess of Lloth had tolerated it, however. She was actually enjoying the game she played. The more Alassëa trusted her, the more entertaining it became. The end would be beautiful. She had a more pressing matter on her mind, however, and these surface elves had proven very adept at the missions that she requested of them. "It's my sister," Rauva said after Alassëa closed the door and separated them from the rest of the world. "Zesanna."

"Isn't she the family fool?" Alassëa said curiously. "What's happened?"

"Nothing yet, but I'm certain she's doing...something. Something with the intent of getting rid of me," Rauva said. That wasn't precisely true. Zesanna was likely more interested in humiliating her older sister than killing her. The younger priestess didn't have the ambition or cunning to take down each and every one of her rivals. She did, however, possess the spite to take them down a peg or two. Whatever the intent, it needed to be stopped. Zesanna had long outlived her proper lifespan. It was time to change that. In time, she was confident she would be able to extinguish the life of Zesanna's daughter as well. Particularly if the girl was anything like her mother.

"That's not good," Alassëa murmured. She knew that Khaless was wrapped up with Zesanna, and maybe that was the problem. Perhaps she had turned Thalion away to keep him from getting involved with all of that. "What can we do to help?"

Rauva smiled, looking relieved even though she was more amused than anything else. The cleric of Eilistraee never failed to take the bait when offered. "I need you to make contact with the others who are faithful and give me names or something to find them. I will need a place to run if she comes after me. There's no one else I trust."

Alassëa paused. She felt a very brief worry that she couldn't quite put a name to. It fluttered in her stomach for just an instant. A stupid concern, she told herself. Rauva had proven herself trustworthy over the years and she would need the help. Zesanna might have been stupid, but she was still cruel. The moon elf didn't want to imagine how much her friend would suffer at her sister's hands. "Of course," Alassëa said after her momentary hesitation. "But maybe we won't have to use them. Not if we can take out Zesanna first."

Rauva had to force herself not to grin. That was an even better answer than she had anticipated. Maybe these faeries would be enough to succeed where others had failed miserably. Even if they died, it would be a horrible death and one that suited them perfectly. It was a plan where she won no matter the outcome, her favorite kind of plan. "It won't be easy. Jhanniss and Ahlysaaria have sent many after her. None of them have succeeded. Zesanna isn't powerless, even if her talents are only mediocre. She possesses wards and defenses, magical items of protection, and she does have a consort who is very skilled in battle. I think it's the only reason she keeps him around."

"Vorn?" Alassëa said questioningly. She had heard the name bandied about. "What kind of fighter is he?"

"Yes, Vorn Tlin'orzza," Rauva said. "He's a formidable opponent. You would be best served taking him on when he's away from Zesanna. Handling both of them at once would likely get you killed." It was not a lie. While her sister was soft and inclined towards sloth, Vorn was not. Rauva was well enough acquainted with his body to know that much. His scars were not merely decorative. It was a pity he was such a kicked dog. She might have liked to keep him for herself otherwise, if only because she enjoyed the quality to his voice when he screamed. It was more enjoyable when they struggled. Vorn had reached the point where he just submitted, knowing that any struggle was a recipe for more pain.

The priestess of Eilistraee worried at her lower lip thoughtfully. "Between Thalion and Malagos, we should be able to handle him. They're very good fighters," Alassëa said.

"Your half-orc friend may know more about him as well," Rauva suggested, eager to put them on the right path. This was going to be delightful. "Vorn does not compete in the games anymore, but he does frequent them. He's a man who enjoys violence."

Alassëa nodded. "I'll go find him and Nek now. They're probably down there," she said before reaching out and touching Rauva's arm in a reassuring way. "We aren't going to abandon you, Rauva. Don't worry. We can handle Zesanna and anything she throws at us."

That was the end of their conversation. Rauva headed back to the noble district, even more smug than even Zesanna could have imagined. This was perfect.

Alassëa, meanwhile, headed towards the Ghetto of Savages. It was a rank part of the city, smelling of dirt and sweat and blood. The population of this area was largely goblinoid, particularly brutish bugbears, powerful orcs, and militaristic hobgoblins. They served as the bulk of the drow armies, taking the casualties that the drow didn't wish on their own people, and as entertainment in the arenas. Under the watchful eyes of House Despana, they had become a formidable force. Many were either slaves or former slaves and Alassëa felt some pity for them. All they had probably ever known was violence. The optimist in her hoped that someday it would not be so.

Malagos and Nek were near the arena in a training area, the svirfneblin taking shots at various targets with his crossbow while Malagos hammered dents out of his half-plate. Both of them stopped when they were approached by the elf, recognizing the features of her disguised aspect.

"Hey," the half-drow greeted, giving her his best smile even though it was handicapped by his small tusks. "You look...worried."

"I need your help," Alassëa said. She took a seat on one of the sawhorses designed to hold armor while it was being repaired. She looked over at Nek as well. "Both of you. What do you know about Vorn Tlin'orzza?"

"He's the consort of Zesanna Xaniqos, for one," Nek said. The deep gnome raised an eyebrow. "Why do I get the feeling that this is going to end in trouble? Alassëa, have you agreed to something stupid again?"

"Possibly," Alassëa admitted. "Rauva needs our help. She thinks her sister is going to kill her. I volunteered to help, but it may mean combatting this Vorn to get to Zesanna."

Malagos nodded slowly. "That would make sense as a strategy. But I would not like to take Vorn in a fair fight. He is accustomed to multiple opponents and he is very, very skilled. Besides, I do not think he will fight alone. He has men under his command and allies within House Xaniqos's armies." The half-drow set aside his work and crossed his arms, leaning back against one of the weapon racks' sides. "Vorn used to compete in the arena. They say that is where he earned Zesanna's attentions. A combination of sword and spiked chain. He can trip and disable with ease. We could very well end up crippled if we try to engage him in a straightforward battle. We need to catch him when he's unprepared."

Nek rolled his eyes. "Of course you'd jump on with this idiot quest," Nek grumbled. "Fine, we'll sneak up on him then. I don't exactly feel game to have my ass torn apart by some drow pretty-boy with a noble at his back, and we all know that's what would happen if we tried to just charge in with steel flashing. You have a problem with jumping him in a dark alley, princess?"

Alassëa didn't like the idea, but she knew it was the most intelligent course of action. Besides, Vorn would likely do the same thing if he knew they were enemies and he was presented with the opportunity. Drow were not nice creatures. Vorn likely deserved everything that they could do to him. "I suppose it will work," she said, ignoring her conscience for the moment. "What choice do we have?"

"None," Nek said grimly. He glanced down at his crossbow bolts. "We'd better get to watching this bastard. I want to know exactly how he moves and who he knows before we try catching him alone."

Malagos nodded his approval of the plan and Alassëa felt herself relax slightly. If her large friend was okay with the plan, it was likely a good one. Or at least, it would have to do.


	9. Trying

The doors closed with a click as ominous and final as the slamming of a coffin. Vhondryl felt acutely self conscious, aware of eyes on her from all directions. She had not had a chance to meet her birth mother before now, her introduction to her family. Now she was alone in a room full of people who had reason to want her dead, and Khaless was nowhere in sight. She wasn't allowed to be. The girl stared straight ahead rather than at her feet. She was afraid to look as doubting or fearful as she felt. _Wear your best mask_ , she heard Khaless say again. That was her foster mother's parting advice.

Rauva was the first one she looked at. The oldest daughter of Thandysha was leaning back in her chair and watching with a definite disdain, red-streaked hair swept back from a proud and unyielding face. That was the danger she needed to be most aware of, though no one in this room was without fangs. Next to her stood a woman with those same streaks of red in her hair, who she knew to be Ahlysaaria, scarred and beaten from battle to a point that was well beyond her years. The grim and growling general of Xaniqos's forces studied her niece, her narrowed eyes looking anything but welcoming. Then again, it was possible that her foul mood stemmed from the fact that she was not in her element here. Jhanniss was next, a slender and small woman with soft features and a particularly charming smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. That one was a schemer as far as she had learned in her studies about her family, though that could be said about all of them. Jhanniss was just one of the better ones.

Her uncle was the next one she looked at. Pharaun was easily the tallest in the room, his lanky frame well muscled despite his studious inclinations from years as a battlemage, both hurling spells and dodging blow. He glanced back and forth to see if anyone was watching him, saw that Ahlysaaria was, and then winked at Vhondryl. The girl didn't feel reassured, considering she knew it was a gesture designed for the sole purpose of angering Ahlysaaria. According to common knowledge, the two had hated each other virtually since they were born. Perhaps it was because they were born within a year of each other and such things seemed to make for the fiercest rivalry. Patron Baragh stood next to his son, a patrician figure with eyes so deep-set they almost seemed sunken, his long arms crossed in front of his chest. He had the same bored look that Zesanna had so perfected on his regal face.

Standing on the other side of Baragh was her mother's consort, Vorn. He was shorter than Pharaun by a full head, but he was much more powerfully built. It was still lean, iron muscle, but he was wider at the shoulders and his squarer jaw gave him an almost human-like face. Vhondryl was a little disappointed when she saw that he didn't have her amethyst eyes. Khaless had never mentioned whether or not he was her father. She supposed that she had simply assumed so, but her eyes had to come from somewhere and they were not her mother's. She knew relatively little about Vorn. He was a quiet man who didn't make many waves, so it was harder to learn about him. Ghaundar had called him a potential ally, though, as he was apparently on good terms with her foster mother. That was something.

At the center was Matron Mother Thandysha, a rare red-head among drow, with eyes the color of flame to match. She was a creature of fiery passions barely contained in a slim frame, restless energy expressed in the drumming of her fingers against her chair's arms. The circlet that crossed her brow was a slim band inscribed with stylized spiders and their webs, a single fire opal sitting at its center. Just to her left stood the woman she knew was her mother, Zesanna Xaniqos.

It was unreal to see her standing here, looking on with a sort of disinterested pride. Her mother was not like Khaless. The lines of her countenance were smooth and refined, just like Vhondryl's own, lacking any of the sharp narrowness of the rogue's familiar face. Every inch of Zesanna spoke of elegance. She seemed...polished...somehow. At least, that was the only way Vhondryl could think of to describe her. Her hair and eyes both had the shine of life, her skin was smooth, her hands were uncalloused and her nails were manicured. There was not a single sign of hardness to her, nor any indication that she had ever experienced a single difficulty in her life. After being raised by Khaless, it was a jarring change. Vhondryl found herself feeling very, very conscious of every callous and scar on her body when she measured herself against her mother.

It was Ahlysaaria who broke the quiet, her voice a low alto. "She looks like you, Zesanna," the scarred drowess said, her mouth curving into a sloping smile with one corner immobilized by scar tissue. Sharp marks littered themselves across her face like scratches in old glass. Vhondryl could only think of what her mother had said chidingly once when they were sparring: _Don't parry with your face_. "But weaker. I didn't realize it was possible."

"Easy, Saar," Pharaun said with a chuckle, his smugness only increasing when his sister glared at him. "She might start thinking that you don't like her."

"Good. Saves me the time of spelling it out," Ahlysaaria snapped, infuriated by the mere reminder of his presence.

Jhanniss laughed, sounding delighted by her siblings' infighting. She looked over at Zesanna. "No hug for your darling girl, Zes? You must have missed her terribly."

"Not all of us feel such infantile desires as you, Jhanniss," Rauva said curtly. Her eyes were burning holes in Vhondryl, or at least that was how the girl felt. She hated being exposed to the gaze of anyone like this, let alone Thandysha's eldest.

"Enough!" Thandysha barked. She was on her feet in a second, prowling over to Vhondryl. She moved like a more predatory Khaless, the smooth grace to her gait undeniably aggressive in nature. She was not as soft in the step, though. The girl was confident that she would be able to hear the Matron coming. "If you think I want to listen to your incessant squabbling, you are sorely mistaken."

Vhondryl made certain that she didn't tremble the way she wanted to. She forced herself to look right into Thandysha's eyes, no matter how dangerous. She knew she had to seem strong now. Khaless wasn't here to protect her. The Matron didn't seem amused, but nor did she seem particularly angered. Vhondryl was fairly certain that the woman's irritation was a result of her children's manners.

Thandysha caught Vhondryl by the chin, forcing the girl to hold her gaze. It was not a gentle grip. Those flame-colored eyes searched hers as the Matron's lips pressed into a cruel line. Fingernails bit into flesh, but Vhondryl didn't flinch or cry out. She knew better from years of training with Khaless. When pain was being inflicted as purposefully as this, it was better to just not react no matter how much it hurt. "Do you have anything to say for your child, Zesanna?" Thandysha asked without looking over at her second daughter.

"Her actions will speak loudly enough," Zesanna said calmly, as if she had no stake in what was going on in front of her. Her siblings glanced her way, some of them likely surprised that she was maintaining such composure. Could she really be expected to care, though? She had no attachment to Vhondryl. It was mostly her reputation that was at stake and she clearly didn't care much about that. Not if her attitude towards Vorn's abuse was any indication.

Vhondryl stayed stock still, her eyes fixed on Thandysha's. There was something hypnotic to that searching stare. After another moment or two, the Matron abruptly released her. "She is...adequate," Thandysha said in a measuring tone. Compliments or praise were not in her nature. Excellence was simply demanded and anything less than that was punished, at least when her attention was drawn to it. She approved of the fire in the girl's amethyst eyes, even if it was dampened by fear.

"Who will see to her training, Matron?" Rauva asked. She was not pleased in the slightest by her mother's verdict, though she wasn't really surprised. Her glare remained firmly on Vhondryl.

"I will attend to her training as a priestess," Thandysha said. Her tone was remote and indifferent, but there was a hint of amusement on her face when she looked over at Rauva. It made the eldest daughter of House Xaniqos start to seethe. The Matron knew that her daughter had been hoping to acquire that responsibility so that she could either poison her niece towards the others or simply and quite literally poison the girl. She looked over at Zesanna's consort. "Vorn, you will handle her combat training."

Ahlysaaria in particular looked scandalized, but Rauva and Jhanniss were not far behind. "A male?" the scarred female balked. She knew that Vorn was plenty capable despite his weakness behind closed doors. Her real objection was that her chance to hurt or use Vhondryl had just been shut down as effectively as Rauva's or Jhanniss's.

Pharaun grinned. "Is that an argument, Saar?"

"I will break you," the female warrior ground out with enough threat in her tone to quiet him. She couldn't lash out like she wanted to in front of the Matron, but that didn't mean she couldn't get even at some other point. The moment she felt fiery eyes focus on her, Ahlysaaria stilled and her gaze fixed on the floor. Thandysha's displeasure was not something to invite.

Before the Matron could lay into either of her children, Vorn spoke cautiously. "I understand, Matron," he said with his eyes lowered respectfully. He didn't dislike Thandysha, as she had never gone out of her way to do him harm or inflict suffering. If he happened to be in her way, however, or in the area when something went wrong...well, he was not immune to her temper. Still, that was generally only a slap across the face and a curse or a single, mild spell. She didn't torture him the way that Rauva or Jhanniss would given half the opportunity.

Ahlysaaria was much like her mother in that regard, paying him so little attention most of the time that he was only punished when she was upset and with only the same amount of malice that she would direct towards a particularly objectionable stick of furniture. The scarred female did not really have any positive moments to endear her to him—she was exactly as personable and approachable as she looked, in his opinion—and so her presence was unpleasant but survivable. Currently, however, she was focusing a particularly nasty glower at him. After all, she couldn't get into it with the Matron for the choice to assign Vhondryl to him, but she could certainly beat the living daylights out of him.

Thandysha rewarded Vorn with a small smile. "All of you, get out. Except for you, Zesanna."

"Of course, Matron," Zesanna said smoothly, though her eyes were following Vorn and Vhondryl to the door. The moment they vanished through it, she turned to look at her mother. "How can I be of service?"

Outside in the hallway, Vorn rubbed the back of his neck before heading towards the training gym. He didn't know how to handle a young girl, though he would never have told Thandysha that lest she take it for protest. She was also Khaless's ward and he knew the rogue was invested in her. That meant that he had something to lose by proxy if harm came to Vhondryl on his watch. He had to check back over his shoulder to make certain that she was still following him like his little shadow, because she walked too quietly for him to be able to judge by footsteps. Khaless had taught her very well. "We'll need to get you a weapon," he said. "And a place to sleep. The Matron won't have put thought into that. She has more important things to do. There are rooms near mine." _And away from the others_.

"Moth—Khaless taught me to use a knife," Vhondryl said, barely catching herself. It didn't feel like pretending when she called the rogue that, as much as she wanted to talk to Zesanna and feel some kind of connection. So far, she was fairly certain that she wasn't going to enjoy the company of her family.

"A very useful skill that will take you far," Vorn said. He'd heard from Ghaundar that while Khaless was an archer at heart, she could use a knife with an ease others envied. "However, there are occasions that will require a larger and heavier weapon." He favored a shorter sword himself, but he wasn't certain what would fit Vhondryl's personality and physique. She wasn't the kind of trainee that he would give a mace or similarly hefty weapon to. "Perhaps something like mine."

Vhondryl nodded. She glanced over at the spiked chain jingling softly at his belt. It did not look pleasant to be struck by and that made her curious as to how it would feel in her hands. Still, her foster mother had warned her that flexible weapons were a whole animal of their own and not something to be toyed with absently. "Ghaundar says that you're my ally," she said cautiously, testing the waters.

The male gave her an unreadable look. "Did he say that you could trust me?" Vorn asked.

"No," Vhondryl said.

"Good," Vorn grunted. That was the end of his desire to converse on the subject. "Zesanna will want to see you as soon as she gets free of the Matron, so we won't spar today. I can get your measure tomorrow. You can wait in my room until she sends for you." Once they arrived, he held the door open for her. "I have some things to take care of."

He wanted to go send a message to Khaless, anything to let her know that her foster daughter had survived that initial meeting. Unfortunately, he didn't make it more than three steps before he was confronted with an obviously furious Rauva. Vorn knew what that particular narrowing of the eyes meant. Zesanna had pushed her sister too far and now he was about to pay the price for it. Despite the fact that he was stronger than the priestess, Vorn stepped back until he actually hit the door to his rooms where he'd left Vhondryl. Physical brawn was no defense against a woman wielding not only the favor of a goddess, but the influence of nobility as well. "Revered Rauva—" he started to say, trying to give no sign of the bitter chill of fear that ran down his spine when she stepped in close. He knew it would hurt. It always hurt.

He needed Zesanna to use her impeccable timing to rescue him. She didn't care if Rauva abused him, but she objected to it happening in her presence.

The kiss that cut him off was nothing like Khaless's. It was brutal and demanding, almost bruising. Not that Rauva had ever been much of one for any expression of affection. This was to get him to shut up and nothing more. "Your quarters," she hissed against his ear.

"Vhondryl is there," Vorn whispered, gripping the handle behind him when her lips moved down to his neck, what seemed like it might be a kiss quickly turning into a series of bites that stung. There was no pleasure in this. It was well within his power to admit them to the room, but he didn't want a witness to this. Particularly not one he would then be responsible for scarring. There was no way Khaless would have done anything like this in front of her ward.

"It'll be a valuable learning experience," Rauva said before biting down at the junction of his neck and shoulder hard enough to break the skin. Vorn let out a sharp hiss, but he avoided a yelp that might disturb Vhondryl. Rauva's fingers trapped his on the door handle. She turned it and pushed, opening the door and sending him over backwards at the same time. Vorn fell back into his room, blood welling at his shoulder. His head cracked hard against the floor and left him dazed.

"Vorn?" he heard Vhondryl ask, feet approaching and then stopping abruptly when Rauva stepped over his prone body.

"Get up," Rauva ordered him before turning her attention to Vhondryl. "Sit down. You should know exactly what the drow are all about."

Vorn groaned a protest, but he was moving obediently up before he even really realized it. Just before he could shut the door and close off any chance of rescue from the outside world, just before he could irreparably damage Vhondryl, he heard his name called. It was Khaless. Vorn froze, the door partially open. He didn't want her to see him like this, dazed and already bleeding. It made him feel weak. He was also, however, very happy to hear her voice. Rauva was glaring at him now as he stopped, looking incredibly impatient. Vhondryl's eyes were wide like saucers. Her gaze darted between him and Rauva.

Slim, dark fingers caught the door from the outside. Khaless hadn't seen anything other than the door starting to close, but she'd guessed that it was Vorn. What she wasn't expecting when she opened the door was Rauva, Vhondryl, and blood. The rogue's blood boiled almost instantly. Vorn was hurt, her foster daughter was frightened, and the apparent cause was right in front of her. "Vhondryl, your mother wants you. She's in her rooms. Vorn can show you the way," the rogue said as if she wasn't angry. Now she just needed to come up with a convincing lie to keep Vorn safe for the near future. "Revered Rauva, the Matron Mother requested your presence." By the time Rauva found out that wasn't true, they could be well and gone.

Rauva cursed and stormed past, shoulder-checking Khaless on her way. Vorn felt a wave of relief wash over his body. They had just narrowly avoided something very bad. "Thank you," he said softly when she came over.

"That needs to be cleaned," Khaless said, keeping herself as business-like as possible in front of Vhondryl. Besides, acting like nothing was seriously wrong might comfort all of them. "Not here. Let's go."

She didn't need to say it twice. Vorn immediately started walking and her foster daughter sprang up. It was dead quiet between the three of them until they reached the relative safety of Zesanna's quarters. Vhondryl vanished into the study where her mother was waiting, leaving Khaless and Vorn together. The warrior turned and headed for the adjoining bath. He knew that she would follow.

"Are you alright?" Khaless asked. Her expression had softened again as she looked at him.

"Fine," Vorn said a little curtly as he came back to himself. He immediately regretted speaking with any cut to his tone, but she didn't seem to hold it against him.

Khaless approached cautiously, aware of the tension in his arms and shoulders. He looked like he was squaring off for a fight with some invisible opponent. His eyes were fixed on the far wall rather than her. He had gone to his memories of all the times Rauva had gotten to him without intervention. "Vorn, will you let me help you?" she said softly.

An unsteady nod.

The rogue picked up a wash cloth and rinsed it with warm water before she went up to him. She was careful not to come from behind or an angle that he couldn't see, lest he mistake her for a tormentors. She knew that he wasn't completely in the present. Ever so carefully, she moved his shirt out of the way while he stood still like a statue, just far enough that she could wipe the blood away. "I'm sorry," she murmured. There was no sufficient comfort that she could offer. "Do you want to sit down? I can put salve on this."

Another unsteady nod.

Khaless was quiet while she took care of his injuries, dabbing away blood that was in his white hair from where his head had struck the stone. Just as she finished, he caught one of her hands with his own. "Thank you," Vorn finally said.

"Why don't you come home with me?" Khaless offered. She knew Ghaundar would be gone anyway, off running one of Zesanna's errands, so Vorn wouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing him at anything less than his best. The male would be able to keep his composure through the streets. "Rauva will be angry for a fair while. It would be better for you if you weren't here. Zesanna will be with Vhondryl."

"That might be for the best," Vorn said quietly, looking up at her. No one had ever stopped to take care of him before. "I appreciate the safe haven, Khaless."

She gave him a small smile even though the anger was starting to trickle back to the surface. Rauva needed to suffer some sort of retribution and soon. Thankfully, Zesanna would likely either see to that incidentally or provide Khaless the opportunity. Vengeance was in the nature of the drow and Khaless was no exception to that.

The walk out of Zesanna's quarters and back to her home was quiet. Vorn stayed close enough that his hand almost brushed hers as they walked. The streets of Erelhei-Cinlu were not empty, but they were quieter at this hour. Granted, quieter only meant that there were hundreds of people moving about the ghettos rather than thousands. Khaless pushed open the disguised door and allowed Vorn in. The place was quiet and dark, a good indication that Ghaundar was gone. "He's still out working," she observed softly. This was, in a way, a welcome distraction from her nerves about how Vhondryl was doing. When she turned around, she saw Vorn already heading upstairs to her room. The rogue followed.

Almost the moment she closed the door to her rooms behind them, granting them an almost perfect privacy, Vorn stepped in and slipped his arms around her waist. "I want you," he murmured against her ear as he pulled her into his chest tightly. "I want to forget."

Khaless felt that slow burn start to unfold throughout her body. She wasn't certain that she could make him forget, but she could make him remember that it didn't have to be the way it was with Rauva. She couldn't think of a good reply to him, so she didn't try. She just kissed him instead and leaned into his touch. There was no air of urgency to this or need to burn away the past. The rogue was in no rush. Her touch was always soft, always careful. Vorn deserved to have something completely free of pain, even accidental. She brushed her lips over the bite mark once his shirt was on the floor, as if that could somehow ease the sting. His arms around her tightened for a moment in a grateful squeeze. Maybe, she decided, it was for the best that she had spent so much time on the surface. It had taught her how to be the woman that Vorn needed right now. Granted, this was not just for him. She needed it too. It was a chance to feel connected to someone and even a little less lonely, no matter how briefly.

Khaless was painstakingly gentle with him, cataloguing every sound or involuntary movement just to remember exactly what it was that Vorn enjoyed the most so she could do it again and again. With every movement of their bodies together, the shadows behind his dark eyes seemed to fade a little. She quickly lost herself in sensation. This was very different from her last encounter. It was...better. She had never thought she could feel this whole again.

Vorn was amazed that he could actually experience this much pleasure. He hadn't thought it was possible. Zesanna had made him feel incredible, when she was pleased and he was in the mood for something a little less than gentle. Never, however, had she made him feel like he was in a world of his own where nothing bad had ever happened and nothing bad ever would. His roaming hands quickly became purposeful and the soft breaths beside his ear became senseless moans. Over the course of his long life, he'd learned how to bring another pleasure. Never had he actually enjoyed doing so before now. He would forever hold Khaless in a special place in his heart just for that. Few things in his life could even compete with the satisfaction and pride he felt when he watched his new lover come undone, only a split second ahead of him.

It confused him when she didn't immediately rise to get dressed or send him away after they were finished. Instead, she rested her chin against his shoulder, body pressed flush against his and an arm curled over his chest so she could just press her hand over his heart. "Thank you," she murmured to him softly, crimson eyes half-closed. He wasn't certain he understood.

"I think I should be the one saying that," Vorn said. He spoke quietly, afraid to break the fragile moment of peace in their tumultuous world. There was something he wanted to ask her, though, even though he was terrified of the answer. "Khal?"

"Mmm?" she prompted, shifting to be that much closer to him. He felt her leg slip over his as she settled in. It was a comforting touch.

"Do you think you could ever think of me the way you thought of him?" Vorn asked. He had spent a lot of time dreaming about being held in her memory with any degree of fondness, of being spoken of with the esteem she had held her dead lover in. He wanted to have with her what she said Ghaundar had with Vaene. He wanted to have a lover who respected him, who was generous enough to think of him too.

There was a long pause, long enough that he could feel his heartbeat start to speed up. After a few almost eternal moments, Khaless let out a soft exhale. "Yes," she said quietly, her ruby eyes pensive when they met his onyx ones. "I think I could."

* * *

Zesanna looked up from the missives she had on her desk, things of a certain nature that usually prompted her to keep them hidden. The unfortunate truth was that collecting and using information and secrets required a certain level of evidence that could always be discovered. She didn't want her family learning her secret, which meant a painstaking attention to concealment. The small figure standing in front of her, however, was far less dangerous in that way. "Vhondryl," she greeted, setting the papers to one side. She rose from behind her desk and stepped around it, moving over to the divan beneath the window. "I find myself glad that you've come. Khaless has told me a lot about you, daughter. I am curious to see how much of it is true."

Vhondryl stood with uncertainty, her hands clasped behind her back as if she was in audience with her whole family again. She still wasn't certain how to feel about her mother. If Khaless had ever emphasized anything, it was that Zesanna did not necessarily have her best interests at heart. It was a hard lesson to learn that she likely wouldn't understand until she saw it in action. "Khaless told me a lot about you too," Vhondryl said with all the bravery she could muster. Her mother was as intimidating as Thandysha had been, if in a different way. The girl was both perceptive and possessed of a finely honed danger sense from all of her time in Fellstrok. There, knowing who was safe and who wasn't meant the difference between life and death. Erelhei-Cinlu appeared no different.

Zesanna laughed, a pleasant and polished sound to go with her whole appearance. It was exactly how Vhondryl had imagined she would laugh. "I hope so, darling. Judging by your expression during your introduction to the family, I would say she was also quite thorough in your instruction regarding them."

"She wanted me prepared," Vhondryl said a little bit unsteadily. She felt precariously off-balance. She wasn't prepared, if only because no real preparation could ever be sufficient for dealing with Zesanna Xaniqos. "They are going to try to kill me."

"Correct," the priestesses said. She stopped and smiled. "Actually, that may not be completely true. Ahlysaaria will test you thoroughly before she tries anything, gauging your skills and boundaries in her way. Jhanniss will try to us you against the others, myself included, before she makes her attempt. Rauva, Goddess bless her, will wait until they fail, align herself with you, and plunge a dagger in your back the moment you achieve success. It's simply who they are."

"And who are you?" Vhondryl asked.

Zesanna's smile was thoroughly pleased. "An excellent question, darling. I suggest you keep it in the forefront of your mind every time you meet anyone, if you want to succeed in life. We will likely not see much of each other until your training is complete, but I intend to make an effort to see you. I have plans for you, Vhondryl, such wonderful plans."

Even as naive as she was in many ways, the girl knew that this was not a good thing. What she said despite that thought, however, was, "Understood, Revered Zesanna." She was not about to call the priestess her mother, even if it was accurate.

If it disappointed Zesanna, she gave no sign. "Excellent. Now, tell me—"

They both heard footsteps approaching and Zesanna immediately flipped her little ledger with its missives closed before stashing it in the desk. The door to her office opened with a bang as it collided with the wall. It wasn't a particularly angry gesture, at least no more angry than Ahlysaaria always was. Courtesy of Rauva's punishment when she was young, the grim and growling female always seemed to have a certain amount of black rage smoldering in her heart. "Vorn is gone. Rauva ran him off," she said, scarred face twisted in irritation. "The Matron wants her assessment done today, Zesanna. Your touching mother-daughter reunion can wait."

"I think I would like to observe," Zesanna said. "After all, something untoward could happen. No one wants that." She knew now was not the time that Ahlysaaria would choose to strike. It would have been too obvious and honestly expected. It would be better to let things settle in comfortably and let suspicion die down. Her scarred sister was not a fool. Still, it was amusing to remind her that she was being watched.

"Whatever suits you," Ahlysaaria said indifferently, turning on her heel. She started off down the hallway at a brisk, soldier's pace. "Come on, bug. You too, Zesanna."

"Why a bug?" Vhondryl asked her mother softly as they walked after the grim and growling general of House Xaniqos's forces.

"Because they are what a spider eats," Zesanna said, her eyes aglow with amusement at the girl's concerned expression.

"Hurry up!" Ahlysaaria barked.

"Are we wasting your precious time, Saar?" the older cleric asked solicitously, continuing to walk at her initial pace.

"I simply have no desire to listen to your voices for any appreciable amount of time. Though the bug's is more pleasant than yours, Zesanna." Ahlysaaria stalked through the door to the training gym, which was empty except for the Patron and an irritated Jhanniss. Both perked up slightly when the door banged open, knowing that entertainment had just arrived. "You have a weapon, don't you, bug?" She waved a hand at the long knife Vhondryl had sheathed along her thigh. It was an old and well-worn weapon scarred from use, but it was mithril and of excellent make. It still held an edge as keenly as the day it had been made.

Zesanna stepped back and before Vhondryl could really react, Ahlysaaria exploded into motion with the fury of a firestorm, which was not a good thing coming from a woman who wielded a flail like it was a toy. It was the perfect weapon for Ahlysaaria Xaniqos: crushing brutality combined with frightening unpredictability. The girl barely hurled herself out of the way in time, tumbling away in a roll that turned into a bounce up to her feet. Vhondryl knew how to move, courtesy of her time with Khaless. It was the only thing that would save her here.

"I'm going to break your little girl, Zesanna. Be ready to patch her up," Ahlysaaria called as she whipped around, moving faster than she had any right to. Drow as a rule were not heavily armored, but the scarred female was certainly equipped on the heavier end of the spectrum in her smoked adamantite scale. "Keep running, bug. Might prolong this a little, which would be far more entertaining. Your job is to survive as long as you can."

One hit from that flail could potentially kill her, and Vhondryl knew it. She had never even been seriously injured before and ideally she was going to keep it that way. Khaless had taught her what to do with weapons like this: get inside their reach or get the hell away, if at all possible. Easier said than done here. She drew her dagger even as she rolled out of the way of another blow. She dropped low when the next blow hissed by at head height. Her aunt really was trying to kill her, she realized. Or at least, she wouldn't be bent out of shape if she killed her niece. Ahlysaaria kept moving thwarting her efforts to get in quite handily. She was not a slow and static fighter.

It became a dance. Swing, step, swing, step, swing step. Vhondryl had the advantage of the vigor of youth and her training with Khaless, but she didn't have as much conditioning behind her as Ahlysaaria, who did virtually nothing but this all day, every day. After a few minutes of intense evasion, Vhondryl felt herself beginning to tire. She wasn't strong enough to fight in a pitched battle like her aunt could. It was time to do something. She waited for the next swing and darted in until she was literally toe to toe with the scarred female. She stabbed, but Ahlysaaria rotated her torso and the knife skittered off her armor. "Good thought, bug," the female said with that humorless grin made crooked by the pull of scar tissue. She hauled back and punched hard, hitting Vhondryl right in the center of her face. There was a definite crack as a nose broke.

Vhondryl's eyes teared up immediately and her head snapped back. She almost went over backwards, but staggered back instead. She had to drop to evade the next swing of the flail, trying desperately to ignore the blood pouring from her nose. She heard laughter, but paid it no attention. She had to survive. She'd broken a nose before, when she'd gotten into a fight with one of her friends. It had been more humiliating than physically painful then, and that was certainly true now. She sprang forward again, undeterred. It was time to do what she'd seen Khaless do: keep stabbing without hesitation until the enemy was forced onto the defensive. Unfortunately, it worked a lot better for Khaless than it did for her foster daughter. This time Ahlysaaria caught her with a gauntleted back fist to the side of the face in an explosive crack, tearing skin and bruising flesh. It hurt so badly that Vhondryl was fairly certain that her cheekbone had actually broken. It was pain like she'd never known pain. The blow knocked her over to the ground in a sprawling heap.

"Get up, bug," Ahlysaaria said almost sweetly, very much amused now. "Now's a terrible time to sleep."

Despite the agony, Vhondryl struggled back up to her feet. She had to keep fighting. If she stopped, no matter how inviting the ground was right now, she could very well die. Across the room, the Patron grinned. "So this is your competition, Jhanniss. She does better against Saar than you ever did."

"Says the feeble old man," the priestess shot back. "You go take on Saar and see how long you last before she chews you up and spits you out." She raised her voice and called, "Are you going to keep playing all day, sister? The Matron wanted something sooner than dinner, I think."

Ahlysaaria looked irritated at the reminder of Jhanniss's existence. "Fine," she growled. The next swing was a deft trip that took Vhondryl down in a blink. The lethal weapon whipped around and up into an overhand strike that should have by all rights crushed Vhondryl's skull in. Instead, the flanged heads of the flail struck the stone right by the girl's heads as a dire warning. "You're dead, bug. Now go cry to your mother. The Matron was right. You're adequate."

Vhondryl lay on the ground for only a brief second longer before clambering back to her feet. She staggered over to Zesanna, feeling punch-drunk and thoroughly beaten. Tears poured down her face along with blood, though she wasn't sniffling. It was just an artifact of the wounds to her face. Part of her was a little bit in awe, though. Ahlysaaria had made it look effortless, just like Khaless. Would it be possible to learn from the grim and growling woman in future? Probably not, but it was a good thought.

"You move quite well," Zesanna said before she cast a healing spell.

Vhondryl bit back a whimper when her nose snapped itself back into place. "I learned something," she said through gritted teeth. The last time her nose had been broken, Khaless was there with a cold cloth and a healing potion—less effective than this, but somehow less painful too.

"Good. Saar will report to the Matron and also pass this on to Vorn when he returns. If he is not with Pharaun, then he will be off with Khaless pursuing his idiotic infatuation," Zesanna said calmly. "You need a new shirt before you meet with the Matron. I assume your things are here?"

"Ghaundar said he would bring them," Vhondryl said with a nod. "Vorn hadn't found me a room yet, though. Rauva..." She wasn't certain what Thandysha's eldest daughter had intended, but she knew it was something very bad that had only narrowly been averted.

"I assume she was being her usual charming self," Zesanna said. Her tone was as smooth and unconcerned as ever. "I will take care of it. Follow me."

Bloodied and still sore, Vhondryl followed obediently. She found herself wishing desperately from the days she was frustrated and bored in Fellstrok. That was a much easier thing to handle than this.


	10. Breaking Point

"Using someone isn't like you, Khal," Ghaundar said, watching his partner fletch arrows. She was currently carefully trimming the feathers from some surface bird, her brow furrowed in concentration. It had been a month since Vhondryl had been introduced to her family and it was not a month that the rogue had enjoyed. There was nothing pleasurable in watching her daughter be pounded into the ground by Thandysha and Vorn as they battered away anything that didn't fit into the mold of 'priestess'. It was a transformation necessary for survival, but Khaless hated it more than she had ever hated anything or anyone before. It was stealing the Vhondryl that she knew away from her.

The feather tore and she cursed. "I don't know what you mean," she said sharply.

"You know exactly what I mean," the grizzled veteran said with firmness. They needed to talk about it. She needed to talk about it. "You drove people you care about away and you picked up a new toy to make certain they stay away. It's a poor substitute for what you want and it's a lie. There's an awful lot of lying going on, in fact. It's the most drow I've ever seen you. I didn't ascribe cruelty to you as a personality trait before. I may have to reconsider."

The rogue sighed and combed her fingers through her hair. "No matter what I do, I'm doing the wrong thing," she said as she leaned back in her seat. "At this point all I can do is protect as many people as I can. If Thalion and Alassëa leave, that protects every follower of Eilistraee in the city and them as well. Do you think I want to see them tortured to death by the Church?"

"Sacrificing everyone's happiness in the process," Ghaundar pointed out.

Khaless felt the urge to explode into a rage. He was right. In his own way, Ghaundar was always right. She hated him for it at this moment in time. "If there is anything my sister and my mother ever taught me, it is that happiness is no use when you're dead," Khaless said coldly. "First, survive."

"What happened to being a moon-kisser? Would your goddess approve?"

"I don't know. Probably not," Khaless said. She'd become increasingly frustrated with her faith, almost as much as with herself. "Eilistraee doesn't touch much on the grey. She's a creature of light and good. I offer her nothing. I have to do this, Ghaundar. If nothing else, it will be a good lesson to Vhondryl. I can teach her who not to be."

"You shouldn't throw this away. Vorn, your happiness, your safety...even your elf," Ghaundar said. "If you cared for either of them, you would tell the truth."

"Because that's gotten me _so_ far. I told the truth and it landed me in Myrineyl's clutches. I told the truth and created this whole mess. Thalion came into the depths because of me, and he would have never done that if I had kept my lips firmly sealed or lied."

"And lying to Vorn?"

"I need him," Khaless said, feeling the twist even though she knew she was only doing what she felt she had to. She had always told herself that she wouldn't be this person. Did it make a difference that it wasn't for personal ambition? She was still using people, as Ghaundar had just pointed out. "Thalion will leave if he thinks there's no chance. Besides, Vorn's training Vhondryl. Now I have a guarantee that he won't help anyone hurt her."

"Khal—"

She shrugged. "He'll turn on me the moment he gets a better offer. It's what any drow would do. Why shouldn't I?"

"Zesanna could take lessons from you in heartbreak right now," her friend said, his eyes worried. This was a much more bitter Khaless than he had ever seen before. She should have stayed in Fellstrok with Vhondryl. On her return, she had been withdrawn, but she had something of happiness to cling to and she wasn't trying to do what was right then. She was too focused on being her foster daughter's mother.

"This way is ugly, yes. Brutal. But it will work: Thalion will leave and find someone he can love again, some elven woman he can be everything to. Even Alassëa is a better choice than I am."

"He'll want you."

"Not for long. Not after I make him hate me and every other drow under the gods-forsaken earth," she said quietly. "He was an avenger of Shevarash. It won't take much. If you can think of a better way, I would gladly listen. I know you, though. Affairs of the heart don't interest you. I'm doing what has to be done, Ghaundar. Better he bleed some at my hands than his everything at Rauva's."

"And you're a bitch," Ghaundar murmured. He didn't say it in an accusing tone. It was more of a matter-of-fact statement. He could see it in the way she talked. Khaless was angry, even furious. He could understand why. Zesanna had taken her daughter from her. She'd taken her future with the people that she loved from herself. The mess was largely of Khaless's making, but the sad thing was that she did it with a heart yearning to see everyone safe and happy...away from her. She just knew it wasn't possible. He could see that defeat in her eyes.

"That too," Khaless acknowledged. She hadn't spent much time examining her motivations, but she knew that a large part of it was still anger and pain. More important than that would be keeping Vhondryl safe. She liked Vorn, she felt for him, but she didn't love him. She had her reasons, just as much as he did, for this. Khaless no longer pretended that she was a good woman or even a nice one. She was a protective creature, but one unafraid to step into the shadows when it meant securing something that she really did love. Vhondryl was the only thing in her life that she hadn't ruined. She fully intended to keep it that way.

She wanted to run sometimes, away to Fellstrok or the surface or anywhere that didn't contain House Xaniqos and elves, Vhondryl being her sole exception. When Ghaundar got up and left, she felt a certain relief. She adored her friend, but he was too right too often for her to be ready for his company at the moment. Khaless tipped her head back. How long had it been since she prayed? How long since she'd been under that starry sky? Her faith had used to mean everything to her. Now it was just ashes of a long dead fire blown by a fading wind. Where was Eilistraee now, when she needed the goddess most? Maybe it was a test. Khaless was tired of tests of faith. They left a sour taste in her mouth. She stared down at her arrows for a long moment before exhaling sharply. She needed something else to do, preferably something that she could channel her frustrated anger into. Without a backwards glance, she grabbed her bow and quiver. Supplies and all of her sketches were next–she threw them into a bag and left without saying a word to Ghaundar. It was time to see the moon, after all these years. Vhondryl would be fine for a week or two with Vorn and, more importantly, Thandysha watching over her. The Matron might have been a cruel and ruthless creature, but she understood protecting things of value. Maybe Khaless was more like a noble than she wanted to admit.

 _If you want to be anything in this life, you should be prepared to sacrifice anything, anyone, to get what you want,_ she heard Haelra's voice whisper in her thoughts. _And for something of true value? You should be prepared to burn the world._

Khaless closed her eyes as she began the long trek up and ever up. She was turning into her sister. Into her mother. Into everything she had ever hated about the priestesses of Lloth. There would be no second chance, not when she was so far down this road. She needed to say goodbye to who she had been. What better way than going to the surface and burning those ties to the ashes they already were in her heart?

It was a long journey, nights in the Wilds where she didn't sleep for fear of ambush as she skirted duergar and derro territory. The cold seeped into her bones and reminded her that she was still very much vulnerable to the elements in these depths. Her journey to the surface was successful, however. It was an unfamiliar stretch of countryside, but a bright moon shone above in that impossibly vast and impossibly beautiful sky. She felt like she was going to fall off the world as she looked up at it. Trilling birdsong broke through the pain just enough to remind her that she was alive. Fresh air, perfumed with the scents of plant life, filled her lungs. Trees rattled their leaves in a soft susurrus as long grasses swayed in the wind. She could smell salt in the air. A brief walk to the west revealed something she had never seen before: the sea. It was a creature that defied all words on her part, its waves white-capped peaks that rushed to crash against jutting rocks and the sandy shores. She stepped awed out onto the beach, exploring tentatively. Soon she learned the way the waves would roll over her boots if she stepped into their path. She wished that she had someone to share these few moments with. She was a small and forlorn figure on the endless stretch of this meeting of earth and sea.

Eventually, her mind returned to her task. The wonder faded just as the light of false dawn started to creep above the horizon. She pulled the papers out of her bag, the journals and solid evidence of phantom dreams. There was wood along the shore that burned green-blue when she set it to light, using some of the images as tinder. As roses and starlit skies burned, she felt a weight settle inside her chest. It wasn't a relief. Her eyes started to sting as she threw the journals on the growing blaze, but she told herself that it was just the wind and the light.

She burned it all. No, not all. When she unfolded the picture of Thalion, her hand stopped. It was battered and worn, almost coming apart along the folds around his face. The paper was aging faster than she was. It would be better to burn it, to remove with a scorching fire that could scar over what was written in her heart. It would be better to leave nothing to be found in case they ever came searching for her couldn't hurt what they didn't know. Keeping the picture would put Thalion at risk, something she was trying desperately to avoid. It would be better to burn it.

Better, but not right.

Khaless cursed herself even as she folded up the picture again. It was all she had left. She was tempted to sit and wait for the sun to rise, as if it might burn her away just like the flames had her reminders. She didn't risk it, no matter how appealing the idea was. Away and back to the depths that held a darkness few could even begin to know.

Khaless was, if nothing else, a daughter of the dark.

* * *

"Maybe we should just leave," Alassëa said quietly, studying Thalion's face in profile. He had been withdrawn ever since his encounter with Khaless, forever thinking. At least she had some indication of his thoughts now: vengeance. It wasn't surprising, but Alassëa was relatively certain that if he acted on it, he would live to regret it. She knew he had heard her, but he wasn't saying anything in immediate response.

Finally, he turned and looked at her with dark hazel eyes. "Not until she hurts the way I hurt," he said quietly.

Love was not something so difficult to poison. Not really. And if drow knew about anything, he said in his own thoughts, it was poison. Coming to Erelhei-Cinlu had not been a mistake. It was divine providence: Shevarash's. He had found the heart of the drow, their darkly enchanted capital. Here he could do perhaps the most damage. His first goal would be Ghaundar Dalael, then Vorn Tlin'orzza, to be followed by Zesanna Xaniqos. Rauva was a drow, yes, but she was also a temporary ally. He could always kill her later if it came to that. If Khaless was tied up with Vorn or Zesanna and Ghaundar, this would hurt her. He had talked to Nek: deaths like that could cost her status, security, and potentially even friendships. He wanted to see it all go up in flames. It was that or pretend he had never loved her at all and leave. Which wasn't possible. He would make certain that she remembered his name until the day she died. And if he couldn't have her...he had no intention of letting her just walk away. Khaless had things in this world that were dear to her still.

He could fix that.

"This isn't going to fix anything," Alassëa said, her expression almost funereal. She understood that this was part of her friend's nature, just as it was part of Khaless's to pull away behind her uncaring armor. "Thalion, you need to listen to me. This is going to end in pain. You know that. Either walk away or try to win her over again. Don't do this."

"I'm leaving," he said shortly, standing up and stalking out with predatory purpose. "Don't follow me."

"Thalion, stop!" The cleric of Eilistraee sounded desperate, but he would follow his dark star wherever it lead—even to disaster.

He didn't know where Tlin'orzza was, but he knew where he could find Ghaundar Dalael. Thalion's feet bore him swiftly to the Lady's. He was not disappointed—Ghaundar was at one of the corner tables chatting up one of the girls. Thalion felt a rush of anger. This was a man who had tried to drive him away repeatedly, who had stonewalled him or hindered him at every turn. Maybe he had said the final thing that tipped Khaless's decision. Thalion approached with a smile on his face all the same. "Ghaundar, can we talk? Outside, maybe?"

The drow male sighed. He had learned to tolerate Thalion, but that didn't mean he had to enjoy their time together. Ghaundar rose to his feet and bid the attractive young human goodbye. He would never actually sleep with a human, if only on principle, but he did like to flirt. It let him experiment with approaches before trying them on a woman like Zesanna. She was probably his favorite one to flatter, as the repercussions were so few with her. "What is it now, elf?" he groused once they were out in the alley.

Thalion could have demanded information. He could have tried to convince Ghaundar to help him make his case to Khal. What he did instead was plunge his dagger up to its hilt in Ghaundar's unarmored back. It made a meaty thud when the hilt connected with ribs.

Instead of going down, Ghaundar stepped in to Thalion and turned, his right fist slamming into the elf's solar plexus. Neither of them were really geared for a fight even if they both had swords. Thalion made a gasping noise and staggered back, fumbling for his sword as Ghaundar drew his own, the knife still sticking out between two ribs. There was a hiss around the knife with every breath he took, but he wasn't falling yet. A lot of people had tried to kill Ghaundar Dalael over the course of his lifetime, and yet here he was. He wouldn't be an easy foe to fight without help.

Thalion lashed out at Ghaundar only to be greeted by a strong parry that turned seamlessly into a riposte. Ghaundar could make his longsword dance, after centuries of practice. He was an artist in steel and that was the only thing that saved him as Thalion drove him further and further back into the alleyway, towards the dead end. The elf was less skilled, but he was stronger than the grizzled veteran and unwounded. Ghaundar had begun the fight at significant disadvantage. He ignored the pain and focused on breaking the elf's relentless assault. Instead of striking with his blade, which was expected, Ghaundar kicked out and caught Thalion on the nerve that ran down the outside of his left thigh, deadening the nerve. The elf fumbled to recover and Ghaundar struck. He punched out and hit Thalion in the cheek with his crosshilt, breaking bone with an audible crack. It was agony to the former avenger, but he powered through it. They were too close now for using the full reach of the weapons, so Thalion stomped on his foe's foot hard enough to flatten Ghaundar's instep. The drow let out a pained growl and threw an elbow that caught Thalion in the uninjured side of his head. It very nearly dropped the wood elf and certainly dazed him for a second. Even through the fog, however, he knew enough to block the next blow with parry punctuated by a shrill ring of steel.

It went back and forth for minutes that felt like hours, neither of them gaining much of an upper hand for very long. They were both beaten and bleeding from cuts, panting and cursing. Ghaundar knew he was tiring far faster than Thalion with the knife in his back, but the only route to escape was through the elf. "What is your problem, faerie?" Ghaundar growled out, keeping up his careful defense as he hunted for a hole, an escape.

"Khaless," Thalion said shortly as he came in, striking Ghaundar's blade with his own in a bind and driving the point home into Ghaundar's jaw. There was a horrible crunching noise as the blade drove itself through bone under the force of Thalion's thrust. Teeth broke with the impact and blood poured out. Ghaundar managed to recoil back before the blade could hit his medulla, but he was choking on blood. It had been a valiant effort against the elf, but it was over now...mostly.

Ghaundar crumpled to the ground and Thalion approached cautiously, but not cautiously enough. The bleeding, mangled drow kicked the elf's feet out from under him and then scrabbled up and bolted into the darkness of Erelhei-Cinlu's streets. He wasn't dead, but he was dying.

The only reason Ghaundar found his way home was how many times he had careened through these streets tired or drunk. Now, with blurring vision and artifacts of light appearing in his sight, it felt almost the same. He had pinched off some of the arteries with his fingers to stem the bleeding, but he was quickly growing very lightheaded. Ghaundar had at least stripped the joy of watching him die from Thalion. As a spiteful creature, that offered him some pleasure as the life faded more and more. It was growing cold as he fumbled with the door and then pulled it open. He went tumbling in without even making an effort to catch himself.

There was no scream from the occupant of the room, but only barely. Vhondryl's amethyst eyes went wide when she saw Ghaundar there on the floor. Immediately she was at his side, weaving the best healing spell she had learned. It wasn't even enough to stop the bleeding. "Ghaundar!" She didn't know the man well, but he had been very good to her and he was close with her foster mother. Khaless was gone. She had found the note. There would be no help arriving.

"Vhon..." Ghaundar forced out, his body twitching listlessly when he tried to move. His breath came gurgling in his throat now. "Khaless...elf...warn..." She went to cast another healing spell, but he caught her small hand and held it tightly. Vhondryl looked down at him, frightened and uncertain. Ghaundar seemed fairly calm, if fading fast now. He had used up everything getting back here, to a safe place under someone's care. "...pain..."

Vhondryl nodded, slightly altering her spell. It would take the edge off the pain rather than do any appreciable repair to damaged tissue. She couldn't heal fast enough, but maybe she could numb it. At least that would...

Goddess, she had never seen anyone die before. It was so much more horrible than she had ever imagined, a thick mix of blood and saliva dripping out of a gaping hole in Ghaundar's lower jaw that went back so deep she wasn't certain how he hadn't died already. Flecks of tooth decorated the wound and Ghaundar's dark eyes were growing glassier by the second. She could see the life leaving him. Worst of all, there was nothing she could do. Thandysha had told her that anything was within her power if she was willing to go the distance. Here, she had the will, but there was no answer. It was devastating to see someone who had been so good to her in this much pain, so close to death.

Ghaundar's ragged breathing was starting to become more and more ragged. She rolled him onto his side so he wouldn't choke on his own blood and saw the wound from where the knife had fallen out of his back. Vhondryl didn't know what to do more than that, other than continuing to cast the pain dampening spell.

The flow of blood turned to a trickle, and then the trickle stopped. Empty eyes stared motionless at the wall and Vhondryl, for the first time since she'd come to Erelhei-Cinlu, started to cry.

* * *

"I know who had Zesanna's daughter," Thalion said as he sat down across from Rauva at the kitchen table of their narrow, but neat, house. The priestess immediately looked interested, her crimson eyes studying Thalion intently. He had returned halfway through her meeting with Alassëa, covered in blood, cut and bruised himself from some vicious fight. That warranted investigation later. "Khaless D'veldrin."

He knew his cleric friend was looking at him almost aghast. Even though they had a rapport with Rauva, Alassëa knew how dangerous that information could be. If it found its way to Ahlysaaria or Jhanniss...she didn't want to think about the consequences. She had heard more than enough stories from Nek and Malagos to know how drow could handle any rival, and that would put Khaless into exactly that category.

"Fascinating," Rauva said, eyes alight with interest. "I didn't realize Zesanna had such respect for a commoner. I'm surprised you're telling me this, Thalion. Isn't she an ally of yours?"

"Was," he said, expression grim. "And I believe Ghaundar Dalael is now dead."

"Something you had a hand in, I assume," Rauva said. Her expression was sympathetic, but inside she was almost gleeful. Everyone knew that Ghaundar was Khaless's most trusted ally. With him gone, the drowess would be on her own except for Zesanna's ill-considered support, and even a fool like her younger sister would pull that support the minute it grew too dangerous. If Khaless was Vhondryl's mentor and foster mother, it meant she would likely protect Vhondryl. One less person protecting the girl would make her life so much easier. Now she just had to figure out how best to handle D'veldrin and possibly Zesanna in one blow. As long as Vhondryl was training with Thandysha, she would be safe. It was an annoyance, but not a problem in the long run.

Alassëa felt her heart break just a little bit. Ghaundar was Khaless's only true friend, the force that kept her from completely going off the rails. Without him, she didn't know what the drowess would do. It was time to go talk to Khal...if she had the opportunity before everything exploded like it was bound to. She didn't want to see the drowess become completely twisted if it could be avoided. Thalion was on the warpath, but Khaless could always leave.

Her home. Again. Alassëa felt another little piece break. This time she would be losing her foster daughter too. If anything the elven cleric knew about Khaless was true, she would be bonded to that girl with bands of adamantite. "This isn't right," Alassëa said quietly. "And I'm not going to be a part of it."

"You're taking her side? After everything we risked?" Thalion said incredulously, turning to look at his companion. He considered Alassëa a close friend. Now she was abandoning him too?

"You murdered someone in cold blood, Thalion. I don't believe Ghaundar would attack you. And this little scheme of yours? No. What amount of suffering do you think will make this better? Are you going to kill her daughter too? Khaless loves her, doesn't she? I believe in mercy, Thalion. I believe in justice. I believe in forgiveness. This is none of these and I won't do something that violates the teachings of Eilistraee," she said evenly. "If you don't remember why we're here, fine. If you don't want to change her mind, that's on you. But don't you dare try to drag me down to this vengeful, spiteful level."

She didn't say anything else. She just turned and walked out into the other room where Malagos was waiting with Nek. Both of them dropped their conversation and sobered up at the look on her face. "What's wrong?" the half-drow said with concern.

"I'm not fighting Zesanna Xaniqos. If you want to throw in with Thalion, I understand. He plans on it still, only he's not going to stop there. He killed Ghaundar," Alassëa said as she headed towards the door. "And I don't think he's going to even second guess himself until everything Khaless has ever touched is destroyed."

Malagos was very, very quiet. He had learned from Alassëa that Thalion had been involved with the drowess in the past. If he was going after her, something catastrophic had happened. It explained the way the elf had been brooding. He followed Alassëa to the door. "And where are you headed?" he asked.

"To find out where she is," Alassëa said. "She needs to get Vhondryl out of Erelhei-Cinlu, at least until Thalion has done the rest of his damage and left. I don't want an innocent girl getting caught up in his vendetta or whatever politics are about to go on in House Xaniqos."

Malagos jogged to catch up with her. The cleric was moving with serious purpose in her step. Nek followed, much to his surprise. The deep gnome looked as grim as their cleric did, though that was not much of a change from his usual expression. "She's in a Matron Mother's clutches, Alassëa. I don't think Khaless will be able to pull her free," he said even as he glanced around to make sure no one was listening too intently. He glared at the people who were trying so intensely that they looked away.

"Might be able to sneak her and the kid out," Nek said thoughtfully. "If she'll take our help. I mean, as far as she knows, we're in cahoots with Thalion and Rauva. If she's working for Zesanna Xaniqos, she's not going to be real keen on that."

Alassëa was a little taken aback by his genuine helpfulness. Then again, Nek had slowly become less and less mercenary. He was still pretty bad, but there was marginal improvement. "If she thinks it'll protect someone that she loves, Khaless will do it in a heartbeat, no matter how dangerous or reprehensible."


	11. Old Allies

There were no words. There wasn't even a sound as Khaless reached out and touched the face of her best and only friend, fingers ever so lightly dusting over the line of his cheekbone. Vhondryl had run to Zesanna, who had the courtesy to cast gentle repose over his body so that it hadn't rotted during Khaless's absence. Now she was back in Erelhei-Cinlu, back in House Xaniqos's villa, where his body lay on a cold stone slab usually reserved for the noble dead of the House before their brief and distant funerals. It was a token gesture from the priestess in reward for her loyalty, though it brought her no comfort.

She traced the edge of the wound that had killed him, then stroked his whole cheek gently. She wanted to scream, to tear at her hair and cry, to curl up into a ball and die. For centuries, he had stood by her. Even when it meant fleeing the only home he had ever known, even when it meant earning the ire of Lloth's clergy, he had been there to help her keep her foes at bay...even the ones she didn't know were there. She couldn't even say his name. Her throat was too painfully knotted to make a sound. _If I hadn't gone..._

It was her fault.

Sentiment was not the drow way, and for good reason: starting to care about things never ended well. Khaless just couldn't stop. It was like a sickness. One of the people she had always tried her hardest to protect was gone and she hadn't even been there to throw herself into the path of that uncaring blade. Zesanna stepped in and closed the door. "I spoke with Vhondryl," the priestess said. "It was one of Rauva's agents. I can give you a name if you intend to exact vengeance."

"No," Khaless said quietly. She felt exhausted and numb to the outside world. She didn't even feel the chill in this cold place. "I don't want revenge. I want him back."

Zesanna sighed softly. It was both puzzling and saddening to see an agent like Khaless actually feeling things. "A tall order, one that I can be of no assistance in," she said. "Regardless, Rauva has to be stopped before she can harm Vhondryl. I expect she knows of your involvement with my daughter if she's sent people after you and yours."

Khaless's jaw tightened. "I'll kill her first," she said of Rauva. Then she felt a wave of weariness wash over her. "I need some time, Revered Zesanna. To collect my thoughts."

The priestess inclined her head in acknowledgement. "Matron Thandysha is allowing my daughter a few days to rest. Vorn intended to spend them training her more intensely, but in light of the situation, I think she would be better protected with you. I expect her returned safe and sound, Khaless," Zesanna said.

Khaless turned to face the priestess. "I will die before I ever let anything happen to Vhondryl."

Zesanna was pleased that she had put her rare trust on the right shoulders...not that there was ever any doubt of that. She had an excellent read on people, her rogue included. Of course, Khaless would be a future problem when she was Matron and Vhondryl went to take the throne, but until then she was a valuable asset. "I appreciate that," the priestess said in her smooth way. "Vhondryl is upstairs waiting. You may hold the funeral when you return." Drow funerals were perfunctory affairs. There was no honoring the fallen the way surface dwellers were said to. Death was the fate of the defeated, the foolish and weak. For the first time, Khaless wished it was otherwise.

At least now he was with Vaene, if he still loved her. That was more than she could say for her own love. When she died, it would be to wander the Demonweb alone. Khaless leaned down after Zesanna left and kissed her friend on the forehead. "Sleep well," she said somehow around the choking knot.

Vhondryl knew her foster mother was not doing well the moment she saw Khaless. She would have offered a hug or comforting words, but Thandysha and Vorn had all but beaten it out of her. Instead, she just managed a worried smile. "Are we going out into the Wilds?" she asked, noting that Khaless had her bow with her. She rarely carried it with her in the city anymore, so it was a good indication that they would be leaving Erelhei-Cinlu for a little while. It made sense. How could Khaless go easily back into the place where her best friend had died?

"That is the plan," Khaless confirmed with a little nod, her expression slowly settling into a stone-faced façade.

Their travel was quiet the whole way out of Erelhei-Cinlu until finally Vhondryl realized she would have to be the one to break the silence. She waited until they were almost a full day out into the Vault near a bend in the Pitchy Flow to speak up. Her foster mother started setting up camp, and as she watched, Vhondryl said, "Will you show me how to shoot again?"

Khaless felt the ghost of a smile touch her lips despite everything. There was something about showing Vhondryl how to draw her bow... She had let the girl do it, or at least try, for Vhondryl's whole life. Even as barely more than a baby, her foster daughter had tugged at the string. Now she was at the age where she could finally begin to pull it despite the weight. "Sure," Khaless said softly. She held out her unstrung bow. "Remember to use your leg when you string it."

Vhondryl nodded and accepted the scarred but well loved cherry-wood bow. The string was spidersilk, much stronger and tougher than anything the surface had to offer. She strung it carefully and a little clumsily. It had been a while. Meanwhile, Khaless took a piece of chalk and marked a rough target onto a giant mushroom stalk. "Are you going to help?" Vhondryl asked, running her fingers over the string as she watched her foster mother.

"Vhon, you're old enough now that you don't need me," Khal said as she returned to unpacking. It was a truer statement than she would have liked, but that was her world in a nutshell right now.

"I want you to help," Vhondryl said intently. "Camp'll still be there in a few minutes."

Khaless unrolled her bedroll and then stopped her unpacking. She approached the girl instead, picking up her quiver of arrows as she went. "Alright," she said. Khaless was grateful for the invitation even though she didn't show it. Not much expression was making it onto her face right now. "Here, let me show you. Then copy me. I'll adjust your form as we go." Khaless adopted the basic stationary form she learned so long ago and drew the string back slowly. She released the arrow with fluid ease and it struck the target's center. After a lifetime as a sniper on and off the battlefield, a large stationary target was as easy as breathing. She handed the bow over. "So what did you want to talk about?"

That was the other half of the significance of the bow, at least for the past two years. Asking for it also meant that there was something on Vhondryl's mind. The younger drowess bit her lower lip. "Did you ever love someone?"

Khaless was taken off guard. "Vhon, why—"

"Ghaundar said you did. I thought it might be him...and...I don't even know what that means. Thandysha never mentions love and I don't want to ask Vorn," Vhondryl explained quickly.

Khaless sighed and scrubbed at the threat of tears in her eyes as she sat down on an outcropping of rock a few feet away. "Keep your elbow up," she said automatically, buying herself a split second to think before she spoke. "I did love someone. I do. It's very complicated, Vhon."

"What is love?" Vhondryl asked, curious amethyst eyes darting to look at her foster mother for a second before letting the arrow fly. The distraction certainly showed in her accuracy: she barely struck the mushroom and didn't even hit near the target.

"Eye on the target, Vhon," Khaless coached. It was easier to do that than sort through this mess, but the mess was more important and needed to be addressed. "Love is a feeling, like something warm and light in your chest whenever you see or hear what you love. At least, in a perfect world. The truth is that love has a nature all its own. It's...like a wild bird." That seemed to pique Vhondryl's interest. "Threaten or beg it, and it will still come in its own time. It flies away and beyond your reach in the blink of an eye. If you don't love, it comes to stay. And if you do love, be on your guard. Particularly if I love you."

Vhondryl picked out another arrow thoughtfully. "Do you love me?" she asked.

Khaless hesitated for a split second, knowing that it might be dangerous for even Vhondryl to know. However, she couldn't bring herself to say no. "You're my whole world now, Vhon," she said quietly. "You're the only thing I've ever done right. Of course I do."

Those amethyst eyes looked at her again, this time without the pretext of a drawn bow in the way. "Why should I be guarded? Isn't that a good thing?"

"Love is a window into the soul, a window that the world likes to stick daggers through. Being open to love is all well and good, but it can kill you. Just like it hurts you, too, you can hurt other people with it. Sometimes you have to, to keep them safe."

Vhondryl thought of the lessons across her lifetime. It was not the first time Khaless had mentioned things to that effect, but it was a far cry of the selfishness Thandysha said was necessary to thrive. "Why would you?" she asked, settling the arrow on the string. "I don't understand."

"Vhon, do you remember your spider? When he got so big that I made you put him outside and you cried until I explained he would be happier and healthier there? That's giving up something you love—namely, having Iv around all the time—for its own sake."

"But you did it with a whole person," Vhondryl said, grasping a little bit of it now.

"Yes," Khaless said. Vhondryl was old enough to understand that much at least. She could probably grasp quite a bit more as well. "It's better for him to be away from me. I don't want him to die too. Sometimes, Vhon, you have to let go of things so they can go be everything they should be."

Vhondryl heard herself in those words. Wasn't that what had happened when they left Fellstrok? Khaless had given her up so that she could go become a noble, a priestess. "And what if they don't want to be let go?"

Khaless rubbed her eyes with one hand to keep her composure. She felt heartsick and the grief was another crushing weight on top of the pile. Now Vhondryl was coaxing her into talking about things she really didn't want to talk about. "Then I push them away, Vhon. I don't think it's the right thing to do, but I do it anyway," she said finally. Someday she would probably end up cutting herself out of even her foster daughter's life. There wasn't much room for her now that Vhon was back with her real family. "I don't know what the right thing is."

Vhondryl could tell that that was about as much as she would be getting out of the rogue for now. Almost. "What's his name?" she asked.

"Thalion," Khaless said as she stood up. She had stopped caring if she died over having an elven lover. "Alright, Vhon. Let's see a good shot from you before we unpack."

Vhondryl's shots were unsteady and frequently wide as her whole body shivered under the weight of the draw. She couldn't hold it well or anything of that nature due to her small size and limited strength, though she was deceptively powerful. In another year, this would be much easier. She still hit the target a few times. When one struck near the center, Vhondryl was so ecstatic that she actually threw an arm around the rogue. "Look!"

Khaless smiled for the briefest of moments. "That's my girl," she said, giving her foster daughter a quick squeeze. She immediately stepped away and towards the sound when she heard someone approaching, gently taking the bow from Vhondryl. She was easily within reach of the quiver and used the second's warning to grab a handful of arrows. Vhondryl readied an offensive spell. She was not a powerful caster by any stretch of the imagination, but it would probably do more damage than her blade. Khaless drew her bow back, ready to loose an arrow as soon as their visitor approached from the shadows.

The first face she saw was a somewhat familiar one: the half-drow guise of Alassëa. She was tailed by a bulky half-orc in half plate and a svirfneblin in deep dragon scale armor. "Khaless, we need to talk," the disguised moon elf said, raising her hands to show she wasn't threatening. Her comrades did the same, albeit reluctantly.

Khaless relaxed slightly and lowered her bow, though she kept the arrow on her bowstring just in case. "You shouldn't be here," she said. "Go back to where you came from, Alassëa. Erelhei-Cinlu and the Wilds are no safe place for your people."

"You're in danger, Khal," Alassëa said. She wasn't certain anymore if she wanted to tell the truth or not, looking at the exhaustion in her former friend's face. Losing Ghaundar was clearly beginning to take its toll. "And not from who you think."

The rogue sighed and let her shoulders slump a little. She was so tired of all of this. "Vhon, go unpack your stuff," she said, putting away the arrow and setting her bow aside. "We can talk away from camp, Alassëa, but I fully intend to keep line of sight on your friends."

"I understand," the elf said in her native tongue. Together, she and the rogue walked a ways into the mushroom forest until they were at a place where Khaless could still see her foster daughter. It was a necessary precaution as far as she was concerned. Once they stopped, Alassëa turned to the archer. "Rauva Xaniqos isn't the only person out to get you, Khal. Someone is helping her. They killed Ghaundar and I don't think even your daughter is safe from them anymore."

"Who?" Khaless demanded. If this person was a threat towards Vhondryl, if they had killed Ghaundar, she would put them in the ground as swiftly as she was able to. She could tell from the way that Alassëa avoided her eyes that she was not going to like the answer.

"Thalion," Alassëa said softly. She forced herself to make eye-contact with Khaless when she said it so that the rogue would know she was speaking honestly, not that she needed to. She had never lied to Khaless, other than maybe to say that everything would be alright. That was clearly not the case here, so she didn't say it.

If Alassëa thought she had seen the drowess heartbroken, it was nothing compared to the devastation on her face now. Once again, the words died. The drowess had to sit down on another outcropping of stone, staring at Alassëa with wide and supplicating eyes. She wanted Alassëa to have misspoken.

"He said he wants to make you hurt the way he hurts," Alassëa said in that same muted tone, waiting for her old friend to snap and scream or cry.

Instead, Khaless felt a distant, bitter rationality taking over her. "I'd say he's succeeding admirably," the rogue said. "Can you get him to the surface, Alassëa? I can mark a safe path for you on a map. You should not go back through the drow realms if it can be avoided."

"Khal, he's not going to stop until you have nothing," the priestess of Eilistraee said. She sat down beside the rogue. "You need to take Vhondryl and disappear the way I know you can."

"She's not mine to take," Khaless said. She knew in her hollow chest where this was going. She wouldn't abandon Vhondryl, which meant there would be a confrontation sooner or later, and probably sooner rather than later. "She has a family and a life of her own. They can protect her where I cannot. If I go to him—"

"You'll die," Alassëa interrupted. "Who will take care of your daughter then? A Matron Mother? They're known for their nurturing nature."

"Whatever I do, I will die," Khaless said with certainty. "I can't let anyone hurt Vhondryl. Not Rauva, not Thalion. She's stronger than you would think. She will survive Thandysha."

She didn't want to believe Thalion was capable of harming Vhondryl, but she hadn't thought he would kill someone just to get at her either. Maybe she had never really known him. She had been operating under the logic that he was a surface elf, someone who ascribed to beliefs including justice. If he was just, he would have killed her and her alone. The quarrel was between them.

"He's also inclined to go after Zesanna Xaniqos and Vorn Tlin'orzza," the surface elf said. "He spoke to Nek—the gnome over there—about what would happen to you if those two die. I know it would hurt you. I assume it would hurt Vhondryl too."

Zesanna was her security and Vorn was her ally. Khaless didn't want to lose either of them, even if they were barely anything next to Ghaundar and Thalion himself. "Is Rauva helping him?" Khaless asked, knowing very well of the association between the elves and the high priestess.

Alassëa nodded. "I think she is hoping he'll get Zesanna out of the way. I didn't realize how much collateral damage she was willing to accept to get that. I...misjudged her. Even if she is Eilistraee's, she is as bad as any Llothian drow I know."

"So am I," Khaless said with a sigh. She put her head in her hands. It was a struggle to stay this collected after everything that had happened, but if she fell apart now, she would be useless. "I should deal with Rauva first. After that...I don't know. There is nothing I can say to fix this."

"We," Alassëa said firmly. "We'll deal with Rauva. We can talk to her, make her back down and go on the defensive rather than the offensive when it comes to Zesanna. I don't know what's really going on, Khal, but I'm not going to just sit by and watch this fiasco."

Her idea of keeping the elves safe had completely crumbled, Khaless knew. It was time to just take the help. "Thank you, Alassëa. I have some people to talk to when we get back. I'll tell you when everything is ready. Can those two be trusted?"

"Well, Malagos can," Alassëa said, watching the half-drow explain something to a curious-looking Vhondryl. "Nek is...well, he's Nek. If you pay him, he's with you through thick and thin. At least, until he gets a better offer. He's gotten better since I met him, though."

"Truly, I am inspired with confidence," Khaless said dryly as she stood up. "I will make certain that I pay him well, then. There are advantages to working for Zesanna and the coin is one of them. I should be able to put something together."

"I appreciate that," Alassëa said, rising and following Khaless back to camp. "I'd like to meet Vhondryl too, if that's alright."

Khaless just nodded, her thoughts already turning to what she'd say when she returned to Erelhei-Cinlu. 'Goodbye' didn't seem like it would be enough.

* * *

Vorn sighed as he followed Zesanna out of Xaniqos's box at the games. "A surface raid? Did she say why?" he asked.

"Oh, I have a feeling she thinks it's an easy way to get rid of Khaless and I at the same time. She'll bring troops loyal to her and make certain we never return. Then she can blame faeries for it," Zesanna said quietly. "It's a great deal less subtle than I expected, but she must be getting impatient. I need you to speak to Khaless about it. Warn her. I expect you to stay wi—" Zesanna bit off her words when an arrow hissed past her head and struck the stone just beside her ear with a sharp click. Vorn immediately stepped between her and the general vicinity of where the arrow had come from. "They are going to move. We need to do the same."

They started running for the exit of the alley when a figure in a green cloak dropped down in front of them and another behind. The bow was nowhere to be seen, so Vorn assumed their archer was still above. He wasn't certain if he could keep them off Zesanna if she started casting. It had been a long time since they fought as a team. It had been a long time since Zesanna fought at all. She was not prone to open combat.

Zesanna hit the one at their rear with a powerful spell, wounds tearing open across his body, and then flattened herself against a wall to avoid the arrows. Vorn sprang on the one in front, whipping his spiked chain across the man's hooded face. He was revealed to be a half-drow, now screaming in pain. His eyes had been torn up by that first swipe. Vorn lashed out with his shortsword and slashed the assailant's throat right open. Then he turned to deal with the other only to find Zesanna had dispatched him with a second spell. "We need to move," Vorn said with authority. Situations like this were the only time he could command a priestess to do anything.

Zesanna nodded once to show she had heard him, immediately heading for the alley's exit. Another figure dropped down, this one much better armed and equipped. The hooded humanoid had a bow slung across its back and a sword drawn as he landed a foot or two behind Zesanna for a lethal strike.

He was struck bodily by Vorn, who tackled him into the wall. The hood fell back to reveal pale, albeit bruised, skin and elven features. Vorn didn't gasp in surprise or flinch back—he slammed his forehead into the elf's nose. "Go, Zesanna!" the drow male shouted. They both knew more might be coming. Vorn went to throw the elf to the ground, but the hold was reversed on him and he ended up on the ground instead. The elf delivered a powerful kick to Vorn's ribs, holding the drow's arm still to expose them. Vorn felt bone crack, but he twisted free with a sharp pull and then sprang to his feet like an acrobat. Vorn wasn't powerful, but he knew how to move. Just not as well as Khaless. This time the elf was the one to bull-rush him, hammering Vorn into the wall. A sword hilt struck him hard in his shoulder, just barely missing the relatively fragile collarbone. Vorn responded with an elbow to the elf's already bruised and battered face. The yell of pain was satisfying, but Vorn's objective was not to kill the would-be assassin. He needed to get to Zesanna in case there were more.

It had turned into a grappling match as both were forced to drop their weapons. Vorn managed to keep his spiked chain wrapped around his own armored forearm and hand, using it in place of a spiked gauntlet. It made his blows much more vicious than the elf's barehanded ones, but their armor was largely soaking up body blows. That meant the head was their target. After a minute of furious bludgeoning going back and forth, Vorn got in a substantial enough hit: he punched the already damaged cheekbone just perfectly. There was an audible crunch and the spiked chain tore open the flesh there. When the elf staggered back, Vorn made his mad dash after Zesanna. It meant following a trail of chaos that she had created in her wake to slow pursuit: confused people picking themselves up, tumbled carts, scattered spiders that had been carefully herded together, and so on. Vorn navigated them as best he could and caught Zesanna on the Flying Bridge. "No more?" he panted despite the agony in his ribs as he fell in step beside her.

"Not obviously. Rauva's pet faerie, I would assume," Zesanna said, glancing over at her bruised and battered consort. "Your face looks terrible."

"And you look unscathed, so I'd say I did my job," Vorn said. "Rauva has a faerie?"

"Two. I don't know where the other is at this time, but I think it's time we deal with them. After the surface raid, of course," Zesanna said. He could have sworn he saw a gleam in her eyes. "You will remain behind to continue Vhondryl's instruction while Khaless and I handle that matter."

Vorn did not like the sound of that at all, particularly his new lover going into the thick of a war between priestesses, no matter how inevitable it was. "I should be with you instead. I am your consort."

"I do adore how you only remember that when it suits you," Zesanna said pleasantly. "You will remain and see to Vhondryl's safety. If Rauva has an inkling of sense, she will be sending a simultaneous attack on my daughter. Or if she doesn't, Ahlysaaria or Jhanniss will. And we both know how well Khaless would take it if something happened to the girl."

Vorn ground his teeth together. He hated it when she hit him in his weak spots. Zesanna was an expert at twisting people's motivations to get them to do what she wanted. "Khaless could protect her just as well," he said.

Zesanna turned to him, expression serene. "If you ever want to be Patron, you would do well to remember how little I care to repeat myself. Vorn, argue more with me on this and you will not enjoy the consequences."

He went to say something else, but recognized the dangerous look she was levelling at him. "Understood," he said. He could barely feel defeated through the pain in his ribs, but he refused to beg her for healing. They would knit together fine on their own, or maybe with the help of a potion.

He followed Zesanna home, gingerly holding his ribs. Hopefully Khaless and Vhondryl were safe...wherever they were.


	12. At the Edge

"We need to talk."

Vorn knew the instant that the words left her mouth that he was not going to like what came next. "You want to tell me no again," Vorn said. "Like at the tavern." He would have been lying if he said it didn't wound him. It had been so close to something. Maybe part of him had known from the beginning that this was coming, that despite what she said, Khaless wouldn't look at him the way she had looked at her former lover. He had just held out hope that with time, that would change. It seemed that he wouldn't be getting the time he needed.

Khaless leaned against the wall. They were in his chambers at House Xaniqos's villa. "Yes," she said quietly. She was tired of leaving a trail of shattered hearts behind her, but she knew Vorn would survive. After all, he'd survived Zesanna so far. That spoke of incredible resilience. "And I intend to give you a reason this time. The truth."

Vorn grimaced. He trusted Khaless to be as honest with him as a drow could be. That did not, however, mean he wanted to hear it. He wasn't going to walk away from her, though. He owed her a chance to say what she needed to say. "Fine. Talk away."

"My lover is still alive," she said. Before he could cut in, she held up a hand to forestall the jealous anger she knew would come. "It's not like that. It will never be like that. He killed Ghaundar. He will kill anything and everything I allow close to me. I'm leaving with Zesanna tomorrow and I don't think I'll be returning. He knows Rauva, so he likely knows that she plans to make an attempt on our lives. I need to know that you're safe. I am poison, Vorn. I warned you that I would hurt you. Now comes the pain."

"I could help you. Zesanna lets me protect her," Vorn insisted even though that was a lie at least this time. Zesanna was forcing him to stay behind this time, after all. He saw Khaless drop her gaze and stepped in, touching her shoulders lightly with his hands. "Maybe your ex-lover is fighting you. Let me fight for you instead. Khal, I don't want this to end. You're the only one I have ever kept in my life because I wanted them to be there."

"I showed you what it can be like. Now you need to find the real thing," Khaless said as she looked up at him with tired ruby eyes. He wanted to kiss her and drive it away, but there was no room for that right now. "I care about what happens to you, Vorn. I don't want to have you follow me in death."

Vorn pulled her into a tight embrace, resignation creeping into the center of his chest. "If this is what you think you have to do, I understand," he said against her ear. "Whatever happens, I will remember. If your lover does come here, what should I tell him?"

"Tell him I said ' _Amin mela lle_ '," Khaless said. She leaned into Vorn a little bit, accepting this last bit of comfort before she had to go talk to Vhondryl. "If he comes and finds you, it will be because I am no more and the fires in his heart still rage. Hearing it will mean nothing to him, but it will be true and it will be said."

The thought that Khaless might die sent a shiver of rage through Vorn. Losing Ghaundar had been a blow almost beyond bearing for her, and yet this...creature...remained unsatisfied. He would pass on the message if he ever encountered the man, but he would follow it with a mortal blow. "I will protect Vhon as much as I can," he said with a reluctant sort of understanding. "Thandysha will have her for most of the days. Jhanniss is afraid of the Matron and Saar is cautious right now. Neither of them are likely to try anything until they know whether it's Zesanna or Rauva they need to worry about. Zesanna would disagree with me, but I've been around them more than she has lately."

"That is more than I could have ever asked of you," the rogue said quietly. She took a step back from him, gently pulling out of the embrace. She didn't love Vorn, but she was still grateful for him. "Thank you."

No one else ever thanked him. Only her. "Goodbye, Khaless D'veldrin," he murmured softly, his dark eyes sorrowful. Her full name made it sound so much more permanent.

"Goodbye, Vorn Tlin'orzza."

Khaless turned and left, but she did not make her way towards the exit of House Xaniqos. She went to her foster daughter's room next. There, ensconced on the broad ledge beside her window, was Vhondryl. She was curled around a book, probably a history that Thandysha had ordered her to read. Khaless had pondered long the idea of just leaving so Vhondryl would always have the hope that she might be alive soon. However, that was not the real world. She wanted Vhondryl to understand. The door must have creaked while Khaless was lost in thought, because Vhondryl looked up from her book. "Hey!" she chirped, springing up so quickly that the book almost fell to the floor. Then she stopped, sensing that all was still not well. "What's wrong?"

Khaless stepped in and shut the door behind her. There was no good way to do this. She went over and hugged Vhondryl close. "I have to leave with Zesanna," Khal said quietly. "I'm saying goodbye. I'll be gone, Vhon."

"Gone?" Vhondryl asked. She had a sinking suspicion that this was not the simple thing that it seemed to be on the surface. "Mother, what's going on?"

Khaless sighed. "Gone," she confirmed. She wanted to say that it was complicated, but it wasn't really. Revenge was frighteningly simple sometimes."I'm..." The words 'going to die' caught in her throat. "Rauva is going to try to kill your mother and I. She has help. Vhon, if I don't come back, I need you to let go of me. Just like we talked about out by the river."

Vhondryl locked her arms around her foster mother's waist. "I don't want you to go! Stay with me!" she said, the tears coming in a flood.

"Shh," Khaless murmured as reassuringly as she could. "You'll be alright. It may hurt for a while, but these things heal. In time, it will be only good things. I just wish I could have been more for you. I wish a lot of things."

Vhondryl shook her head fiercely. "Stay, Mother," she pleaded. "Stay or come back. Don't be gone."

"I love you, Vhon," Khaless said, gently disentangling herself each and every time Vhondryl went to grab her as she headed to the exit. "Where I'm going you can't follow, Vhondryl. Just trust me." Khaless knew she needed to try her best to come back. She just doubted it would be enough. At the door, she stopped and turned around. "You'll be better than I ever was. Don't cry."

Vhondryl nodded and took a deep breath, trying to stem the flow of tears. "I will," she said quietly. "You'll come home. You won't be gone forever."

"I'll do my best," Khaless promised.

* * *

Alassëa held the reins of her lizard tightly, trying to steady her shaking hands. They were fast approaching the surface, which meant they were fast approaching combat. They were an hour away from the entrance to the world above according to Khaless, who had spent the trip scouting ahead even though they knew their real enemy was right beside them. The soldiers were largely loyal to Rauva by design, but Zesanna managed to get a few of her own into the ranks. In addition, they had Alassëa, Malagos, and Nek. Rauva had even warily given them her approval. She probably assumed that they were not intending to turn on her. It would be extremely foolish considering the odds. It was foolish. Alassëa knew it, Malagos knew it, Nek knew it, Khaless knew it, and yet they were doing it anyway. Some things were worth foolishness.

"Regrets?" the disguised elf ventured as she rode next to her old friend. Khaless had been almost completely silent since they left Erelhei-Cinlu weeks ago. In a few minutes she would race off down the tunnels to scout again.

"More than there are words in every language," Khaless said quietly. She felt obligated to answer even though it felt like rubbing salt into a raw wound. Alassëa had agreed to help her. That earned her the right to probe for answers. "I always thought that the surface raids and the attack on House Kenafin would be the worst things I had ever done. I don't think I realized what evil I was capable of. Though...perhaps that is the nature of the drow. We become so twisted that even we don't know who we are. I have become a good example of what Lloth desires in her followers and my life now exists to serve as a warning for others."

"Khaless, there's still good in you," Alassëa said. She hated seeing her old friend so...defeated. Khaless was not harboring a spark of hope any longer, or if she was, it was buried under a sea of heartache. "If you didn't regret it, if you didn't feel pain, then I would give up on you."

There was a long moment of silence where Khaless contemplated that reply. She wasn't certain she found it satisfactory. No amount of feeling could go back and change the past. It couldn't erase what she'd created. It couldn't protect the people she cared about from her unintended consequences. "It's good that we're going up to the surface," she said finally.

"Oh?"

"It seems right that things should end where they began: under the moonlight," the drowess said. They were far enough ahead of the rest of the group that she didn't feel afraid to say these things, not that she particularly cared what people knew anymore. Who was there to protect? Well, Alassëa and Vhondryl, but their fates did not rest on whether or not Zesanna knew she had been with an elven lover.

Alassëa wanted to say that her friend was just being fatalistic, but the truth was that this would be an end one way or another. Maybe Thalion could be persuaded to leave. Maybe she would kill him. Maybe he would kill her. Maybe they would all die. She didn't even know what to expect, except for the fact that this would likely not end well. Khaless might have been able to be with Thalion before, but after Ghaundar's death? She couldn't imagine that the drowess would ever forgive him. "Are you going to kill him, Khal?" she asked finally, looking over at her friend.

"I don't know," the rogue said. "I'll do what I have to. I always do." That was what this was about now. Necessity. Not sentiment or feeling, not nostalgia or adoration. She needed to come back to Vhondryl, but she needed to secure the safety of the people around her. She had been negligent and it had cost her one of the dearest things in her life. Thalion had to be stopped and she didn't know how she would do that. She wasn't certain he had that light in him to appeal to anymore. That said, she doubted she could bring herself to kill him either. That said, she had learned that she was capable of a great deal of things she said she would never do, so anything was possible.

"I think some part of him still loves you," Alassëa said.

Khaless sighed. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse."

The elven priestess's face softened slightly with concern. "We'll figure something out," she said in an effort to be reassuring.

"Mm," Khaless responded noncommittally. She was lost in her own thoughts now.

Alassëa let the rogue go ahead to finish her scouting, falling back into line with Malagos. The half drow had been focused on ignoring the jeering of the full-blood drow in their group. Neither Rauva nor Zesanna seemed inclined to shut it down. He knew he couldn't whip around and lunge at the offending parties. There were more of them than him and it could potentially ruin the admittedly half-baked plan of his companions. The elf swung down out of the saddle to walk next to her heavily armored companion.

"How is she?" Malagos said. His exposure to Khaless was limited, as he'd only really met her at the beginning of this journey. She seemed...worn. He couldn't really explain it beyond that. It was as though the world had simply decided that she could take its whole weight alone, and this was the toll it took.

"Not good," Alassëa confided, her brow lined with worry. "I just...I wanted to see the two of them happy. Instead, we have this. I don't think even she knows what she wants."

"Could she love him a second time?" Malagos asked. He was curious about the surface notion of love, though he had been introduced to it by his orcish half, who had spent time beneath the sun before coming down into the depths. It was a strange, soft concept, but when he looked at Alassëa, he could see the appeal.

"Could you, if you were in her shoes?" the cleric of Eilistraee said. "He killed her best friend. I'm not sure I would be able to forgive anyone if I were in her position. Besides, even if Thalion does love her, I'm not sure he wants her back. I think he really does want to ruin her."

Malagos nodded. He had to admit that he understood Thalion's side better, simply because revenge was a very drow motivation as compared to trying to protect someone else. That did not, however, mean he agreed with the elf. If Khaless had been his, he would have made her reconsider through persistence alone. Perhaps it was simply the corruption of Erelhei-Cinlu speaking, the helpless anger that came with watching deaths of thousands of innocents he couldn't save, the poisonous and impotent rage of being subjugated by Lloth and her clergy even though he was free in name. Theirs was such a powerful tyranny that few could even hope to escape it. Even Alassëa was subject to their whims, still living merely because it amused them to watch her flounder and fall. Rauva could not protect them from that, or if she could, she did not. Malagos did his best to shield her from the worst, if only to keep that foreign gentleness alive.

"We will do our best," he said. He leaned in and murmured to Alassëa, "I have been watching Zesanna for the past few days. Something is going to happen soon, I'm sure of it. She and Rauva have been observing each other too closely for it to be innocent."

"Do you think Zesanna means to attack?" Alassëa said uncomfortably. She did not like the position she was in, not when it felt like she was going to have to betray one of her friends or the other. Khaless was on Zesanna's side, putting her in direct opposition to Rauva. Maybe Rauva was colder than she had realized before, but she was still a friend who had been good to them. The time was fast approaching for their little group to decide who they were going to stand with and who they were going to stab in the back. It was a decision that could also pit them against Thalion directly.

"Not yet," Nek said, inserting himself into the conversation. Neither of them minded. His input was welcome at this juncture, as he seemed to have an understanding of the drow that surpassed even Malagos's. Alassëa had her own theory on how Nek had learned. Perhaps those scars on his neck were not from derro knives as he had suggested. Who knew the nature of the drow better than those who had been forced into their service? It would explain his violently independent nature as far as Alassëa was concerned. The better she got to know Nek, the more certain she was of his origin. "She's waiting for something...probably the surface."

"Well, then it won't be long," Malagos said. "If what Khaless told us was correct, we're less than half an hour from the surface on foot."

Nek patted his crossbow bolts. They were of drow make, as he approved of the weapons where he did not their makers. Drow cunning served them well in the manufacture of their traditional weapons. "I've got plenty of these for whatever's waiting up there. You've got those spells, Malagos has that ridiculous sword, so we'll be fine."

"Even if it's Thalion?" Malagos said, ignoring the comment about his greatsword. He knew that Nek considered it altogether too large and unwieldy, likely because it was easily taller than the deep gnome was.

Nek shrugged. "I can't say I'm gonna be laughing it up, but he was the one who decided it was a good idea to start his own personal war against the favored servant of a noble...and by extension, that noble. I'm not going to own his bullshit. I have enough of my own."

"He's our friend," Alassëa objected quietly.

The svirfneblin ranger sighed. "Look, I'm not pulling some strings tied to him or anything. He's a grown man, he made his decision. Even if I think it was a stupid one. You're not responsible for that. I'm not responsible for that. If he's gonna shoot himself in the foot, that's his problem and not mine. If you want to help him so bad, you probably shouldn't have told Khaless you were gonna watch her back. Besides, a boot to his head might knock some sense into him."

It was hard to argue with Nek, Alassëa acknowledged in the privacy of her own head. It was hard for her not to examine everything she'd said and done when it came to him and Khaless, searching for an answer as to what she might have been able to do differently, what she might have been able to do to prevent this. Nek would have called it a waste of time if he knew how much she'd thought about it. He was probably right, too. She wasn't going to change anything that happened in the past no matter how hard she tried to wish otherwise.

"Volunteering to deliver the kick, Nek?" Malagos said, grinning despite himself. The deep gnome had grown on him.

"Somebody's gotta," the ranger pointed out. "Our scout's back. I'm going to go talk to her."

"I don't think that's a good—" Alassëa broke off the sentence when she saw Nek accelerate ahead without paying her any mind. "Just what Khal needs. A Nek pep-talk."

"Actually, I think the two of them might get along," Malagos said, watching as Khaless dismounted and fell in step beside the gnome. "I wonder how she's going to take that. Or what he wants to talk about with her."

"Goddess only knows," the elf mumbled.

Up ahead, Nek looked up at Khaless as he walked next to her. He was a good observer of people, considering how often he had hunted fugitives on behalf of any number of people. It meant being able to read faces and posture, not that it took an expert to tell that this was a tired drow. Tired in the way that no amount of sleep could ease. "What'd you see?"

"The path is clear," Khaless reported. She actually felt a little more comfortable with the gnome than she did with Alassëa. She didn't have to worry about shattering his optimism. "Someone passed this way ahead of us, though. That I don't like."

"You thinking an ambush?" Nek queried, his crossbow resting against his shoulder as he walked. Really, it was more of a swagger. Even the gnome's movement had an attitude problem. "Because I'm more worried that it's going to be Bitch A and Bitch B clawing each other's eyes out."

"You're not wrong," Khaless said. She was well aware that Rauva likely meant for her and Zesanna to never return to Erelhei-Cinlu in the most permanent sense possible. "In this case, however, I think it is both."

Nek nodded thoughtfully. "Thalion's gonna be here. You know that, right?"

Khaless bit her lower lip. "I know," she said quietly.

"Wanted to talk to you about that," Nek said. When she looked over at him, he shrugged. "You still have things to go back to, right? Then don't stop. Rauva wants you dead, he wants you hurting, and you've got a little one who wants you back. I know which one I'd go with."

"It's more complicated than that," Khaless said. Her tone wasn't sharp or hard like he'd expected. Then again, maybe that just would have burned up her last reserves of energy for the day. Or the week. Or the rest of her life.

"Is it, though?" Nek said. "You're living in your head, drow. That gets things all kinds of tangled. It's a choice. Simple as that. Just like everything that got you here. Maybe you'll give your all and things will still end up ruined, but at least you can look at yourself and say, 'I did my best'."

Khaless breathed out in a sharp sigh. "And if I don't know what I want?"

Nek shrugged. "In the moment, you'll know. Funny how walking right by death puts everything into a certain clarity." He took a deep breath and then screwed his face up in disgust, as if he'd stepped barefoot into rotten meat. "Ugh, surface plants. We're closer than I thought. Better put your big girl boots on and get ready to rumble, drow. As soon as we step out of the cave, things are gonna get real bad."

The rogue nodded, looking down at the gnome. "I know."


	13. I Will Love You

The first touch of starlight against her face reminded her of why she had fallen in love with the surface. Khaless turned her face upward, features bathed in the silver glow of the moon, forgetting for a moment about the inevitable. She just wanted a second to enjoy the balm on her soul, even if it was ridiculously insufficient to the task of handling those wounds. It at least distracted her from the pain for a few moments. And then, a split second later, she felt a sudden shock of cold running down her spine. Immediately, reflexively, she dropped and a spell crackled violently through the space where her back had been.

Just like that, pandemonium erupted.

She shot up to her feet and immediately looked for Zesanna. She could see the priestess holding her own against the sudden danger, augmenting the strength of her soldiers rather than casting offensively the way Rauva did. Khaless loosed an arrow at one of the drow attempting to flank Malagos, Alassëa, and Nek. She wasn't certain what side he had been on, but neither did she particularly care. She wasn't going to let someone to hurt her friends just because they answered to Zesanna.

In the thick of it, Rauva looked stunned when Malagos struck down the first of the soldiers that were headed at Zesanna. Her surprise turned into a basilisk glare and a powerful spell that Alassëa barely managed to shield him from. Once the battle was joined, however, she focused her attentions on Khaless. Her sister was not a combat caster, which meant that her own soldiers would be able to tear through her once they reached her without having to fear the most significant inflict spells. The rogue, however, would be a vicious problem if she was allowed to settle down and snipe. There was a little bit of smugness in Rauva's smile when she saw that she had drawn the rogue's attention. It would give Thalion his chance and then she could focus on Zesanna again. The arrow that clipped her ear, removing its point and splashing blood across her white hair, removed that smile immediately. She ducked down and started approaching the rogue. Thalion be damned. The bitch would pay for that.

Khaless saw Rauva making a beeline for her and cursed. She could not hold up under an onslaught the way Rauva would be able to. Straight fights were not the rogue's game. She needed things like stealth and surprise to survive, because she sure as hell couldn't take damage. Her danger sense suddenly spiked and she whipped around, throwing up her bow in a block. Her assailant's sword sheared right through the wood that had remained unbroken for centuries, the blade wielded as it was with the malevolence of an avenger. She had to throw herself backward to avoid getting hit herself, but for a brief second she fixed on familiar hazel eyes.

 _Thalion._

Khaless caught her fall with her hands and immediately used that to bounce back into the upright position. She came up swinging, using one broken half of her bow as a club to hit Thalion across the face with. It struck with her whole momentum behind it, cracking across his face as the broken end laid open his cheek. "I don't want to fight you!" she shouted at him, dropping her sundered bow. She knew she would be on the defensive more, so she drew her knife in a reverse grip, the single-edged blade against her arm with the edge facing outward to allow her a better block.

"You should have thought about that before!" he snarled. For a moment, she didn't even recognize him. That was how alien the furious, vicious expression on his face was to her. She had never seen him like this. He had changed. She barely deflected the swipe of his blade. The backswing drew a burning line across her side, but not deeply enough to truly wound thanks to her armor.

She couldn't compete with Thalion in a fair, up-close-and-personal fight, but she had no other option. She wasn't going to be able to get away easily, not with her back to a raging battle. She had to hope that Alassëa and the others would free themselves enough to come to her aid. That just meant surviving the onslaught. She ducked, narrowly avoiding a decapitation. Her only chance would be to get in close. If she could get the sword out of his hands...though that posed its own dangers. Thalion was larger and much stronger than she was despite her athleticism. When he tried a thrust, she again dove off-line, rolling and springing up onto her feet. "Thalion, listen to—"

"What happened to me being your one and only, Khaless? You jumped awfully quickly to Tlin'orzza," Thalion said, cutting her off.

Khaless felt her throat knot up. She wanted to shout that Thalion was the one and only person she'd actually loved, but she knew there was nothing she could say to fix this. Not in the middle of a battlefield with him trying to do her bodily harm, if not kill her outright. She had to focus on her physical defense if she wanted to stay alive, her emotional defenses be damned. If he wanted to go down this road, she had to let him. She darted back again when his next blow almost connected with her ribs, blade again biting into her armor and splitting skin. A superficial wound thanks to her dodge, but a painful one. Nothing compared to what words and memory were doing, granted.

"Thalion, please," she managed to get out around the knot, backing up again. He was running her in circles around their part of the clearing, a game she wouldn't be able to keep up forever. They both knew she would get tired eventually.

"I threw everything away for you," Thalion growled.

"You think I don't know that?" Khaless said she almost tripped over a stone and had to turn it into a backwards tumble to avoid his rush at her. "I wanted you to find everything: your heart, your life, your light. None of that is with me. I wanted you to go be without me. You want no part of me. I know who I am, what I am."

"So do I," he snapped. "I can't believe I ever loved you."

The twisting pain in her chest drove itself in deeper than his sword would ever be able to go. She kept moving, dodging, seeking an escape. She had to get out before she was forced to hurt him.

"Héra was right about you," he ground out. His breath was coming more and more ragged. He was tiring too, but the fires of vengeance drove him onward. "I took an arrow to the heart for you, Khaless! I should have never stepped in the way."

"No, you shouldn't have," Khaless said. The world would have been a much simpler, happier place if she'd taken that arrow. Ghaundar would have been upset, but at least he would have been alive. "But if you think you're the only one who lost things, you're wrong."

"That's right, your pet is dead," he said, drawing back for a moment to pause. He was beginning to feel something else under the anger, something that twisted at the look on her face.

"I lost you!" The words came unbidden and unstoppable. "For decades I had nothing! I waited on your ghost. That arrow to your heart was all I could see every night. Then you came to Erelhei-Cinlu and I knew I had to make you leave before something horrible happened to you. The only way I thought I could do that was giving you no reason to stay. Now I don't even see a hint of the person I love! Thalion Vanafidon did not murder people! He didn't set out to maim and cripple! He didn't ally himself with monsters! You are—you were—the light of my eyes! How do you think I felt? How do you think I feel when I know you will always be out of my reach?"

Thalion lashed out with his foot, hitting her in the knee. She managed to twist so that he didn't blow it out, but it still dropped her for a second. His overhand blow sliced down, but hit only air. "I don't want to hear word about your noble sacrifice ever again! You know nothing about pain! That's why I'm sharing everything I know with you!"

"If that's what you want for me, fine!" Khaless said. He swung again, but this time she didn't dodge like he'd been expecting her to. The blade bit deep into her shoulder and the fragile rotator cuff there, slicing through tendon and ligament alike and into bone. She staggered back and her knife fell from suddenly weak fingers. Even with magical healing, her shoulder would never be the same again.

Thalion stopped short, feeling a sudden wrenching in his chest when he saw her blood run down his blade. This was not what he had imagined. He didn't think she would just take a crippling blow from him. The anger was gone just like that. "Khal—" He almost dropped his sword.

Khaless went rigid as a dagger from the darkness of the dappled shadow of the trees plunged into her right kidney from behind. "Hello, D'veldrin," Rauva purred in her ear. "Don't worry, I'll say goodbye to Vhondryl for you."

Khaless could see black at the corners of her vision, quickly creeping in as unconsciousness rushed to meet her. She tried to fall away, but Rauva's arm looped around her throat and the knife twisted viciously. Blood started to pour out of the wound now that it had been torn open fully. Khaless gasped through the pain like she was drowning. When Rauva withdrew the knife and let go, she crumpled to the ground between the drowess and Thalion. The wood elf's horror overpowered everything else. He dropped down to his former lover's side and tried to stop the bleeding with his hands. "Rauva!"

"Too little, too late, Thalion," the high priestess said, unable to help a little smile. "And from what I heard, I did you both a kindness."

Before he could lunge at her or she could say another word, she was hit from the side by someone flinging themselves full speed at her. The pale skin and dark hair made it obvious: Alassëa. The cleric of Eilistraee had thrown her everything into the assault even though she only had healing spells prepared. Nek and Malagos were hot on her heels as the moon elf slammed her hand into Rauva's face with an impassioned fury that was alien to her nature. The cleric of Lloth was struggling and managed to grab Alassëa's hair, jerking her head back and delivering a powerfully damaging spell at the same time. Malagos swooped in, grabbing Alassëa with both arms and hauling her back away from the cleric she was assaulting. Rauva shot up to her feet just in time to meet with a Thalion furious beyond all reason. He smashed his pommel into her face, knocking her back and down again, before slashing down at her. His blade sliced through the bone of her arm, but not before the next damaging spell hit Alassëa again, rendering their cleric a limp and motionless form. Malagos let out a howl and released his hold on Alassëa so that he could lunge at Rauva as she rolled over and away to escape. Nek caught their priestess and lowered her to the ground as Malagos plunged his greatsword through Rauva and about six inches into the ground. He ripped it out again, orc rage blinding him to everything around him. He just lunged into the nearest combat, scattering drow like branches in a hurricane.

Nek shook Alassëa by her shoulders. "Wake up, princess," he said with an anxiety that surprised him. His heart was hammering in his deep chest at the idea that their resident moonbeam might not wake up. He kept shaking her for what felt like an hour, until he heard a pained groan. He sighed with relief and looked up. There was Thalion, trying to stop Khaless's bleeding with cloth torn from Rauva's robe.

"Khal. Khal. Khal." Her name was a chant, a prayer, a plea. "You have to hold on!"

The drowess under his hands rolled over with what was left of her fading strength even as he tried to stop her, now lying on her wound. The blood came faster, but the pain was fading as creeping cold stole up her limbs. Thalion could see ruby eyes looking up into his own, their depths as unreadable has the hidden facets of a gemstone. Then her eyes started to gloss over, with tears rather than the death that was fast approaching. "D'anthe..." she forced out as hot droplets started to roll towards the ground.

"Alassëa!" he shouted before looking down at her. He slipped his hands under her to keep staunching the blood flow. "I'm right here, Khal."

"I will love you," she whispered, "the way I never could in life."

Just like that, she was gone.

He didn't even have a chance to say it back.

The battle raged around them, but it was a dull quiet in Thalion's ears. He felt someone shaking him and calling his name after what felt like a century. Nek. He recognized the voice. Alassëa was to the left, Malagos helping her up. The battle was over, now that Rauva had fallen and the half-drow had made a grave impression upon any drow that had gotten in his way. That didn't matter. He had what he'd wanted. Khaless had known pain...and she hadn't just walked away from him. But she was gone all the same, and all of the things that he'd said buzzed around in his brain as he picked her up and held her close.

Rauva's words spun around in his head. _Too little, too late._

"It's over," Alassëa breathed as she stood up. Swiftly advancing on them was Zesanna Xaniqos, spattered with blood and chips of bone. The cleric of Lloth was a complete mess, her expression a firm neutral as she took in the catastrophe that was their little group.

"I should kill you," Zesanna said. She looked down at the body of her older sister and smiled faintly. Khaless was dead—an acceptable loss—and now so was Rauva. There were not words for how satisfying she found that to be. She looked up and focused on Thalion, the elf that had come after her in the alley with his hired thugs."But perhaps you've done worse to yourselves."

"We—" Alassëa started to say.

"Go," Zesanna said in a voice like adamantite. "You will not have a second chance."

They pulled Thalion away, letting him carry Khaless with him, and ran.

* * *

"She's gone," Vorn said softly, looking down into amethyst eyes. He felt something leaden on his shoulders and closed his eyes so he woulsn't have to see the light in Vhondryl gutter.

The question that he heard next was a simple one, in the girl's soft and silvery voice. "Why?"

"I don't know," the male drow said. And he didn't.

* * *

The moon was full and bright above the next night, surrounded by the shimmering veil of stars above painted with the swirling arms of a galaxy behind them, innumerable. A small breeze stirred the leaves of the trees above. It was spring. Birds trilled in the branches and the river flowed along its steady course to the serene sea less than a half-mile away. Long, soft grasses swayed, still adorned in silver droplets from the rain. It smelled like moist earth and green growth.

They buried her under the moonlight, at the foot of a gnarled oak that reminded him of another tree standing a lifetime away. He had stared into the grave as the earth slowly covered her lovely face that was composed as if she was just sleeping. He'd watched quietly and numbly as she vanished beneath the loam, beneath the tree, beneath the stars.

 _You will be my one. You will be my only._

He turned over the symbol of Eilistraee in his hands. _Of all the things I have prized, this is the dearest save you._

 _Too little, too late._

 _I will love you as I never could in life._

He set the holy symbol down on the grave and watched as they piled stones over her heart in a simple, lonely cairn. No, it wouldn't be lonely. He would stay.

The minutes ticked by as they finished their laborious work. He helped them stack the stones, one at a time, over the others.

Alassëa watched him, leaning into Malagos's shoulder. She was weak and battered, but his powerful arm around her waist was keeping her upright after the exhausting work of digging and then carrying stones. She could see from the distance in his eyes that Thalion was gone too. There was nothing they could do.

He heard it again.

 _I will love you as I could never in life._

 **End.**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** I think that actually tore me up the most out of anything I've ever written. Thank you to everyone who read and reviewed. You guys are amazing.


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